#i have my own aus i need to work on you guys are awful

[moon-ttokki-x]

safe - skz x 9th member!reader

pairing: ot8!skz x 9th member!reader

summary: skz helps you out when you're struggling with burnout and bad habits.

genre: fluff, idol! au, very angsty, descriptions of eating disorders, destructive habits, mentions of blood, fainting, throwing up (nothing graphic), reader is struggling with lots of thoughts, fluffy ending. read at your own risk.

a/n: i felt like it was time to write something that hits a little closer to home... hopefully it helps some of you out. my dms are always open to talk if you need it, and if you ever feel like reader does, please know that things do get better <3 divider by @iluvrei

The lights are too bright.

You blink harshly, trying to clear your vision of tears. Glancing across, you check to see if the boys have noticed anything. They haven't, too focused on the video of the choreography. They're all dripping with sweat, hair mussed, brows furrowed in concentration, and so are you, but you just can't focus right.

Not even if you tried. Because you can't do anything right.

Minho hums and notes down a couple things before signalling to start the choreography again. You move into your position and place a hand on Jisung's shoulder as you all fan out. The music blasts and leaves high-pitched ringing noises in your ears as you dance.

A hollow pang thuds dully in your stomach but you ignore it, instead focusing on copying Hyunjin's moves and moving into the next part of the song. By this point, you've forgotten the choreography and you want nothing more than to just sit down.

Focus, Y/n. Ignore it.

But you can't, too focused on just staying upright and keeping up with the rest of the boys. Even Felix, who tends to get tired the easiest, is dancing at full power, his eyes fixed on the mirror, adjusting and executing with perfect precision. The sight of it makes you feel even more run down and your temples throb when you stand back up into position for the main chorus.

Your energy finally runs out halfway through the choreo and you simply drop to your knees, hitting them hard on the polished floor. A chorus of groans sound out as Jeongin jogs to the speaker to stop the music.

"Y/n," Hyunjin groans, hands on his knees. Sweat drips from his hair. "We were almost finished, now we have to start again-"

He's cut off as a panting Chan waves his hand dismissively. "Take a break, guys. You okay, Y/nnie?"

You nod tiredly and look down at the floor, trying hard not to cry. That awful sour feeling takes a firm hold on your jaw and you gulp, like there's something stuck in your throat. The rest of the boys pay you no mind, chattering and bickering as they take swigs from water bottles and flick sweat from their hair.

Concert practice has been more than tiring, to say the least. Despite the tiredness and fatigue hanging in the air, the boys seem reasonably cheerful; pushing through with smiles on their faces. But being the youngest member of Stray Kids, there's only so much you can take on before it gets too much. You don't remember the last time you slept for more than four hours or ate a proper meal.

So while the others begin to move back into position, you stay on your hands and knees on the floor, gasping for air and feeling that terrible hollow pang gnaw at the lining of your stomach. A headache settles firmly between your eyes and your vision blurs, and it takes all your strength to even breathe.

Don't cry, you tell yourself harshly.

By now, Chan is kneeling beside you, a hand on your back. He knows how hard you've been working, especially since you just joined the production side of things, and he whispers a few reassuring phrases before standing up and offering you a hand.

Your eyes follow him as he rises from the floor, and a sudden burst of irritation shoots through you like lightning. Swatting his hand away and then immediately feeling terrible and selfish for it, you stand and brush yourself off, walking away without a word.

Chan stares after you just as Felix walks up.

"Is she okay?" The younger boy whispers.

Chan shrugs, brows furrowing in concern. "I don't know, Lix. I think she's just stressed with all the concert preparation."

"I mean," Felix begins as the music starts to play again, "She is the youngest of us. Maybe it's getting too much for her, hyung."

Maybe, Chan thinks as he moves into his position, watching as you do the same.

.

The rest of the day is uneventful; you spend most of it running between photoshoots, vocal lessons, rehearsals, and dress fittings for the upcoming concerts. It's all a blur, and by the time you open the door to the Minsung dorm, you're exhausted.

Minho and Jisung are already back from practice, since you'd opted to stay longer to perfect the choreo. Your body had been against it but you pushed through anyway, and you're beginning to slightly regret it as you almost stumble while shutting the door behind yourself.

Minho is in the kitchen, chopping something up; Jisung is lounging on the couch, watching something on his phone. The air smells rich and meaty, and normally you'd sneak into the kitchen for a taste of whatever Minho is preparing, but the singular thought of it makes you feel tense and nauseous.

You opt to grab only a new bottle of water before heading to your room. Minho looks up in surprise; he had been preparing to fight off a nosy, hungry Y/n, but you walk straight past him without even a hello. You do the same to Jisung and shut your bedroom door quietly, sinking down against it without a word.

You feel terrible about ignoring them; after all, they're your friends, but you just don't have it in you today to talk. Or dance or sing, or do anything at all. Everything feels dull and grey save for the hot tears that begin to soak the damp, musky fabric of your shirt.

Deciding to shower, you pick yourself up from the floor after a while and move sluggishly to the bathroom. You scrub until your skin is red and tingling and pull harshly at your hair while brushing it out before slipping on the first clothes you see in the drawer; a hoodie and sweats, all black.

Collapsing onto your bed, you open your phone and immediately regret it; the blue glare makes your head throb so harshly that you have to fight to urge to lean over the bed and throw up. You cover your mouth just in case, though there isn't even anything in your stomach to warrant the action anyway. You take a weak swing of water as a remedy and collapse back into the pillows, feeling exhausted but not tired enough to sleep.

Your stomach rumbles and you think briefly about sneaking into the kitchen after Minho and Jisung have gone to sleep, but you hold yourself back and roll over, gritting your teeth. Someone knocks on the door.

"Y/nnie!" Jisung calls from the other side of the door. "Come and eat something."

You ignore him, hoping that he'll think you've fallen asleep. You check the time; it's definitely late enough for that to be true. You wait with bated breath until you hear footsteps walking away.

You stomach growls more insistently and you press a disapproving hand over it, quieting the pangs as you turn over to try and sleep.

You can go one more day.

.

The next morning, you wake up early and decide to head to practice before Minho and Jisung can keep you back and make you eat something. You know for sure they've noticed the change in your eating habits, so you take a plate and break up a piece of toast, sprinkling crumbs so it looks like you've eaten. You throw the bread into the bin and leave your plate on the table before leaving.

Opening the door to the dance studio, you notice Chan, Changbin, Hyunjin, Jeongin, and Seungmin all up early too, rehearsing the choreo, messing about, or talking. Or, in Hyunjin's case, all three. You duck to the side and head to the opposite side of the room, as far away from Chan as possible.

Him being here isn't good; you know for sure, after how exhausted you were yesterday, he'll try and check in with you. And it wouldn't be hard for him to decipher what's been happening; the pale pallor of your face, the bones of your wrists more prominent than before, and of course the constant sluggishness, fatigue, and dizziness that you've forced yourself to endure for the past few days.

You busy yourself with unnecessarily reorganizing the items in your bag, trying to ignore how bright the lights are. It feels like a spotlight.

"Hi, Y/n."

You look up to see Jeongin standing next to you, smiling in a white shirt and basketball shorts. His hair is ruffled, and somewhere in the cold, dead depths of your hardly-beating heart, you realise it's because the boys have been messing it up with their constant affection of the maknae. The thought makes you feel nothing. You are numb.

You don't reply, instead giving him a curt nod and picking up your waterbottle. You walk and place it on the cabinets against the back wall just as the others filter into the room. Jeongin shrugs and decides to leave you alone, apparently unbothered by your lack of response. Maybe he thought you were just tired.

Good, you think grimly. I don't want him to notice, nor do I care if he does. Just leave me alone.

Your eyes flicker to Jisung and Minho as they move to put their belongings down. Jisung immediately goes off to mess with Felix, who is still sleepily waddling across the floorboards to Changbin. You look away, but not before your eyes catch Minho's. He locks his gaze with you and raises a pointed eyebrow, silently questioning.

You look away quickly, gritting your teeth so hard you swear you can taste blood. Your heart jerks and starts, sending a racing thud reverberating through the hollow shell of your body.

He knows. He knows. He knows.

You see him begin to move towards you in your peripheral and you exhale when Chan claps his hands, moving to start the practice. Despite how much your head hurts, and the fact that you can hardly see let alone dance, you're grateful for the interruption, and dedicate your entire focus to the choreography.

Minho eyes you during a slower part of the routine but you don't look at him. Or anyone. The most you do is glance at Seungmin to check if he's placed where he needs to be before you move past him to the middle. Your vision deteriorates and drowns into dizzy black spots with every movement, but you push on.

Your head pulses dully with an aching pain and there's simply no energy left in your body. You grit your teeth and keep going, trying to will strength from within.

I can last til the end of the choreo. Just a little longer-

You exhale sharply and suddenly then, as if you've been punched hard in the gut. Your vision clouds over completely and you briefly panic as you can't see anything, but you find your limbs still moving. The last thing you know before you pass out is the feeling of the cold, polished floor against your cheek, a dull thud against your head, and a panicked yell from one of the members.

You close your eyes.

.

"Y/n. Y/nnie, wake up..."

"Is she okay?"

"Did anyone see what happened?"

"Y/n!"

Groggily, you open your eyes, and immediately hiss from the glare of the bright white lights above you. You're lying on the floor, where you dizzily remember yourself falling. You try and weakly lift a hand to cover your eyes, until Chan's head and broad shoulders moves into view above you, blocking it completely.

You exhale a small sigh of relief, even though the swimming black dots in your vision are making it hard for you to see anything at all. Your head throbs even worse than before; you must have hit it before you fell and passed out.

Even through all of that, you can see the look on Chan's face; half concern, the other half an equal mix of affection and sternness. You can't do anything but let out a weak groan as someone kneels down next to you, pressing something cold to the back of your neck.

"Take it easy," you hear Changbin saying from above you. You feel a pair of strong arms lift you to a sitting position and the movement makes a swelling pang of dizziness shoot through your skull like hot lightning. You feel sick and feverish.

"Y/n," you hear Chan saying through the haze. "What happened?"

You can't hold back the tears from spilling down your cheeks, however dehydrated you are. They just keep coming and someone else wipes them away with a gentle brush of fingers.

This is your fault. You can't even keep up with them and now you're wasting their time by making them take care of you. Way to go, Y/n. Absolutely pathetic.

That same rush of irritation shoots through you again and you push Changbin's hands away from your shoulders. "Leave me alone."

He looks surprised but backs off anyway. Your vision clears momentarily and it's then that you notice all of the boys are standing around you, most of them in various stages of concern and confusion. You notice Felix tightly clutching Hyunjin's hand in worry, Jisung biting at his lip. Jeongin looks upset too, and even Seungmin has the decency to look mildly put out.

"Why aren't any of you dancing?" You say, confused.

"Because," Hyunjin puffs out dramatically, "One of our members decided to die in the middle of the choreography."

Ignoring the younger's comment, Chan places a gentle hand on your thigh. "Y/nnie, please talk to us. We're all worried. What happened?"

You scoff weakly and push Chan's hand away too, even though his warm, solid touch is comforting. He pulls back, looking mildly hurt, and you instantly kick yourself for it. It's Chan. Why did you have to go and do that?

"Nothing," you say. "I'm fine."

He lets out an exasperated groan and there are a few protests from the rest of the group. "Y/n, you literally collapsed on us. And you don't look well at all. Have you been sleeping lately?"

"Yes." Lie.

"Have you been pushing yourself too hard?"

"No." Lie.

"When was the last time you ate something?"

"This morning." Also a lie.

"We're not dumb, Y/n," Minho interrupts from where he's crouching near you. "I mean, we are sometimes, but we're not clueless, especially when it comes to you. Please let us in."

I can't.

"Okay," you whisper weakly, because you don't have the energy to argue. You feel so incredibly embarrassed and humiliated.

Chan sighs and hands you a bottle of water. You take a swig before putting it down.

"Practice is off, everyone," he says. "Let's regroup tomorrow. Good work."

"What are you doing?" You say on an exhale.

"Taking you home," he says firmly. "There's no way you're going to keep practicing after this. You need to rest and eat well for a while before you can join back in."

Your heart thuds hollowly in your chest. "But-"

"No buts. Please, Y/n. It's okay if you're not doing well, and we don't have to talk about it if you aren't ready, but we're not going to stand by and let you suffer like this, yeah?"

"Plus," Felix adds softly as he sits down next to you, "It's no fun when you're not around, so hurry and get better so you can join in again."

You look to Chan, defeated tears welling up in your eyes. You spot the slightest waver in his expression, but it remains firm and he helps you stand shakily to your feet without a word.

Minho walks over just as Jisung folds you into his arms, kissing the crown of your head.

"I'm sorry," you whimper to no one in particular.

"Shh, it's okay," Minho says, "Let's just get you back home and then you can rest, okay?"

You nod and let them lead you out the door.

.

The tangy fruitiness of the juice sends little bursts of flavour down your throat, and you sip a little more before placing the glass on your bedside table. You're looking out the window, though the curtains are drawn, and your hair is a mess, having slept ruffled against the pillow for around three hours now. The sun is beginning to set.

Jisung comes into the room, followed by Chan. You look towards them and sit a little higher up on the pillows as Jisung smooths a hand over your forehead.

"How are you feeling, Y/n?" Chan asks carefully as he sits on the bed.

"Better," you say quietly, even though certain thoughts still linger in the back of your mind.

"It's good that you slept a while," he continues. "Looked like you needed it."

"Yeah."

The room is silent for a while, and Jisung lies down next to you, his face pressed into your thigh. He lets out a muffled happy sound just as Minho comes into your room, holding a tray of soup.

He sets it down on the bedside table along with a banana, a glass of water, and a small packet of your favourite sweets before shamelessly flopping down onto the bed, making himself comfortable. Chan sighs before his hand reaches out to cover yours, which is picking at the blanket.

"Y/n," he says softly. "It's okay if you're struggling."

You shake your head, though what you're disagreeing with, you're not sure.

"It's okay," Chan says again. "It can be a lot, I know. And it's completely alright if you just need to take a break, yeah? That's allowed. But please don't punish yourself for it. You do so well and work so hard, and I know it feels wrong when you don't shine as much as you want to."

You stay silent, the sorrow beginning to weigh down on you again.

"Y/nnie," Chan says gently. "You can talk to us, okay? If you're struggling to take care of yourself, or if it's all just getting too much, come to us. We're all in the same boat."

"More like stuck with us in the same boat," Minho snickers from his position on top of Jisung.

Chan slaps the boy's thigh without taking his gaze off you. Ignoring Minho's whine of pain, he leans forward and brushes a strand of hair out of your face. The simple gesture is so gentle and reassuring that tears well up in your eyes again, and you thank your stars that Jisung has plenty of electrolyte drinks in the kitchen because of how dehydrated you're becoming because of the crying.

"I'm sorry," you whisper.

"It's okay, Y/n," Jisung hums from your thigh. "We all have bad days."

"Just please, please come to us if you're not doing well, okay?" Chan says. "We all love you very much, and none of us want you to be struggling alone."

As if the universe has magically decided to prove his point, the door flies open and Hyunjin and Seungmin crash onto the floor, followed by a giggling Jeongin and Felix. Changbin stands disapprovingly behind them.

Chan presses two fingers to the bridge of his nose. "For goodness' sake."

But his words are drowned out by the mad scramble of the boys clambering onto your bed, heaping themselves on top of you in a mess of bickering, singing, and arguing.

Felix presses his cheek to yours. "I missed you."

You exhale a tiny laugh. "I wasn't even gone a day, Felix."

"I know," he replies earnestly. "But I missed you anyway. I wanted more than anything for you to be okay."

"Me too," Jeongin interrupts indignantly.

"Yeah, me too," Changbin adds matter-of-factly as he makes himself comfy on top of a squashed Hyunjin.

"Say you wanted her to be okay too, Seungmin!" Jisung pokes him hard in the ribs.

All you get in response is a begrudging nod and it makes the rest of the group burst out into laughter. Even Chan can't fight a fond smile.

And even if you're not doing well at the moment, you know in that moment that the rest of the members will always be there to fall back on, and the thought makes you relax, finally, your mind quieting and replacing the hollow feeling in your heart with a solid, steady warmth.

You are safe.

a/n: this was was longer than i anticipated

[ohposhers]

me when im violently dragged into 2 different Troll AUs by @bulliestrolls and @lemony-and-zesty </3

[tossawary]

I've been toying with a "third transmigrator" AU for SVSSS in which the third transmigrator is a teenage girl who ends up in Luo Binghe. This teenage girl tried to read PIDW because someone else liked it, but didn't get far because she didn't like it.

Disinclined to follow the plot, the teenage girl decides to transition, because fuck it (crying breakdown), she doesn't want to be a guy. Ning Yingying is initially the only one in on it (and then some Qian Cao Peak people). This new Luo Binghe knows JUST enough about the plot of PIDW to avoid Shen Qingqiu's attention as much as possible and so swears Ning Yingying to secrecy regarding the transition. She intends to hide it until the Transmigration System lets up on the missions and restrictions a little.

Meanwhile, Shen Yuan is like, "How am I supposed to improve my relationship with the protagonist if i never see him? Did he just jump out a window to avoid me?! Also, hmph, the bullies are all calling him 'Luo-Shimei' now? Just because he's pretty??? I had better go tell them off for it!"

(Shen Qingqiu, please, your students are getting the impression that you're transphobic!!!)

If Luo Binghe's transition comes out before the Immortal Alliance Conference, Shen Yuan is going to 1) think it's his own fault somehow and 2) be more than a little weird (and a little transphobic) about it.

Shen Yuan (internally): "Oh, shit, NOT abusing the protagonist turned him into a girl??? How does that work???"

The endgame relationship here is a messy love triangle between Luo Binghe, Ning Yingying, and Ming Fan. Ming Fan is like, "What do you do when the shidi you hate falls down the stairs and nearly dies, and then apparently can't remember you used to bully him and expects you to be a good shixiong, and becomes best friends with the girl you like but also starts turning into a cute girl too??? But you can't tell Shizun any of this otherwise the girl you like will kill you???" Ning Yingying is like, "I was so caught up in the thrill of makeovers and having a new sister that I forgot to examine why, when she's approached by guys, I want to tear their throats out with my teeth. Ming-Shixiong is not good enough for A-Luo!!!" And Luo Binghe is like, "Wow, Ning Yingying is such a good friend. And so pretty. I could stare into her eyes for hours. Ming Fan is kind of a jerk sometimes, but he's cute, I guess. He needs to shape up if he wants to win Ning Yingying's heart someday! She married a guy, so she's definitely into guys."

This third transmigrator isn't paying too much attention to their own love life partially because they're too busy 1) trying to survive, 2) trying to do right by their friends, and 3) trying to figure out if Shen Qingqiu and Liu Qingge are in a "toxic yaoi relationship" and, if so, which one of them tops more frequently and where Yue Qingyuan fits into things.

If you haven't guessed yet, this third transmigrator is actually Shen Yuan's younger sister, who transmigrated at like 16 years old at the oldest. This identity reveal comes out at the Immortal Alliance Conference, seconds before disaster (the push into the Endless Abyss), and no earlier. It does not go well. The Transmigration System is mostly to blame.

Live Shang Qinghua Reaction: "Oh, fucking yikes, bro."

This Luo Binghe hands a lot of control over to Meng Mo to get out of the Endless Abyss. An inadvisable amount of control, really, even if Meng Mo is soft on the girl. Afterwards, they sort of stumble into the arms of Huan Hua Palace. Shen Yuan's sister did not read far enough to know pretty much anything about this sect, especially not that it's a terrible idea to be here while being both a Heavenly Demon and (post-transition) looking like even MORE of an identical clone of Su Xiyan.

(Tianlang-Jun and Zhuzhi-Lang ARE both going to be kind of awful and weird about it, yes, at least initially.)

Gongyi Xiao, after showing basic kindness to this poor young woman: "Hey, why are those two Qing Jing Peak disciples glaring at me like they want me dead?"

[enigmatist17]

Continuation/just ideas I have of the Mecha Pilot Jazz Au by @keferon

First part can be found here :)

A03 version -> https://archiveofourown.org/works/60978709

---

No one is really sure what to think when Jazz finally returns to the general populace, the crowded common room he steps into with Prowl at his side going silent at the mech's arrival.

No, not a mech, a frame piloted by an organic Wheeljack swore to the Pit and back was smaller than most of their servos.

"Soooo, what's up?" Jazz leaned against the closest table as Prowl got himself some energon, no longer keeping up the pretense he needed such liquid.

"That's what you have to say?" Starscream gawked from his seat, the seeker looking like he wanted to start dissecting Jazz's mecha as much as pry the pilot out. "Are all organics from your planet this...this flippant?"

"Not really?" Jazz shrugged, glad no one could see the grin on his face when Prowl rejoined him, placing himself between Jazz and everyone else in the room with a minute flick of his doorwings. "Hell, you sound like one of my commanders, he'd be having a fit right about now."

"Rightfully so, I should say." Mirage commented from behind Jazz, the pilot grinning to himself when he turned, only to see what was supposedly a blank wall. "Then again, you seem to be the type of bo - organic to cause mayhem on the regular."

"Human." Jazz could hear more than a few processors whir at the strange term, and after a moment, grabs a seat at the table next to him. "Organic sounds weird to me, so you can call me human or just my name, I'm not picky."

"Human...weird." Jazz isn't sure who spoke as his visor offlined, ensuring his mecha was supported before fully breaking the connection. The entire room went silent when Jazz's chassis made a soft click before opening, noises of alarm escaping vocalizers as they expected to see a spark, wondering what in Primus' name the org - human was thinking when something moved. What should have been a spark chamber was something else entirely, the central interior some sort of piloting seat that housed the human they'd all come to trust and fight alongside, who waved as he undid a harness. Prowl was the only thing stopping the Cybertronians around Jazz from moving any closer, his doorwings up in a sharp V when he carefully placed one of his servos just below Jazz, Mirage shimmering into view on the other side of Jazz's mecha when the human hopped onto the limb.

"Hey, fellas." Prowl kept his hold on Jazz as he stepped back from the temporarily deactivated suit, setting him on the table's surface as carefully as possible. "Aw, thanks Prowler!"

"You look strange for an organic." Thundercracker tilted his helm slightly, wanting a closer look but not stupid enough to test how close he could actually get.

"I guess?" Jazz reached up to unlatch his helmet, biting back a laugh when there were a few surprised vents at the reveal of his hair. "Back home, I'd say I'm about the best we humans can look."

"With an ego to match." Mirage cycled his optics with a smirk, eyeing his friend curiously while keeping himself between any bot stupid enough to try and sneak up on Prowl's blindside. "Your frame suits you."

"And don't I know it." Jazz winked, setting his helmet on the table by his feet. "Man, you guys are just...so much bigger in person. I mean I know you are, it's just weird ta see it with my own eyes, er optics."

"Trust me, it's weird for us too." Sideswipe commented from his spot among the crowd, amused more than anything when the inevitable questions started pouring in. To his credit, Jazz tries to answer some of them, but he steps back when Prowl draws himself to his full height and silences almost everyone when he crosses his arms, smiling to himself when the bot speaks.

"If you have any further questions, you can ask them another time, most of you are late for your assigned duty shifts, Jazz included."

"Ya wound me Prowler!" The human let out a whine at the supposed betrayal, but the grin never left his face as he turned to his mecha. "I guess I could get movin', don't want to keep Brawn too late."

"Indeed." Prowl offered his servo once more, aware of the many prying optics watching as Jazz hopped onto his palm, slipping his strange helm covering back on as he was safely delivered back to his larger frame. They watched Jazz buckle himself back into the harness within the spa - piloting chamber, the chassis closing up when something connected with the back of his helm covering, the visor on the frame they were all accustomed to lighting up with a slight hum.

"Fun time's over." Jazz waved his servo, everyone murmuring to each other while they slowly dispersed. "Man that was fun."

"You find most activities fun, dangerous or otherwise." Prowl shook his helm in exasperation as Jazz laughed, the human leaning over to gently bonk his helm against Prowl's.

"I'll see you later, gorgeous." With that Jazz sweeps out of the room, Prowl watching him go with a look that made Mirage do a double take.

"You definitely chose someone...interesting." The saboteur chuckled, saving the image of a soft smile on Prowl's face for some future use.

"So I have..."

---

Jazz had wondered what Prowl's face felt like from the moment the met, in awe at how the metal creased and smoothed out much like his own skin did. Would it be cold and stiff, or warm and pliable? Ah the thought plagued him from time to time, becoming worse when he fell for said mech.

So, when he comes across Prowl asleep (no recharge) at his desk, a data pad clutched in his clawed hands, Jazz grins. Locking the door to Prowl's office, more for the tactician's peace of mind than his own, Jazz quietly grabs the only other chair in the room and sets it down on the other side of Prowl's desk, resting one arm on top of the table. Prowl is still asleep when Jazz powers down the link with his mecha, shivering at the sensation of becoming so small before slowly unbuckling himself, setting his helmet aside before starting the (admittedly) long journey across the room. Thankfully his magnetic lock boots made his journey down the arm of his faithful mecha relatively safe, staring up at his boyfriend (boybot? Ugh no, no way in hell) with an amused smile.

"Always gonna be the smallest huh?"

Now, here comes the hard part, one that could end up getting him flung across the room or smashed into paste if he triggered the wrong response from his sleeping partner. Okay, deep breath, and with a quick crossing of his fingers, Jazz activated the magnetics in his gloves before placing them on Prowl's arm as a test run. One doorwing twitched at the initial contact, but Prowl remained still, and with a deep breath Jazz started climbing, climbing up his mech's arm nice and slow. It was a little tricky when he reached Prowl's shoulder, but with a little awkward shuffling and a twist of his upper body, Jazz was within reach of his partner's face.

Now here comes the Hard Part Two: Electric Boogaloo.

It took a few tries to unwrap the base of his glove with his teeth, heart racing when he was only attached to Prowl via his shoes and magnetized knee pads in order to free his hand, but soon he was ready to do the biggest thing he's wanted to since he first laid eyes on Prowl. His hand is shaking slightly, but that doesn't matter when it makes contact with Prowl's cheek, brain short circuiting at how...soft and warm the metal was to his touch. While it didn't exactly move with his touch, Jazz could feel the nanites that were on the outer surface of every Cybertronian react, twitching when he felt a buzzing under his finger tips. He becomes used to the buzz as he takes his time mapping out the dips and curves of Prowl's face, missing the cycling of optics before a loud chirp breaks the silence, Jazz yelping as he jerked back in surprise far enough to detach from Prowl's shoulder. He doesn't fall very far when he lands on a hand (servo dude) with a grunt, Prowl looking worried as Jazz propped himself up on one arm.

"Are you alright?"

"Yep! Next time I need ta clip a harness on you or somethin', don't want to fall again." Jazz waved with his uncovered hand, sitting cross-legged on Prowl's palm. "Saw you asleep, an' I couldn't resist."

"Resist what?" A quick look at his chronometer showed he'd not been asleep too long, optics flickering down to his partner when he felt something strange touch one of his digits.

"This might sound kinda weird, but I've wanted ta touch your face since we met." Jazz had uncovered his second hand and was touching the closest digit, a look he couldn't classify crossing Jazz's face when he gave it a squeeze. "Weird, these are warm, but not as warm as your face."

"Did you enjoy your...examination?" Something fluttered in his spark at the smile Jazz gave him, and once again gave thanks to Primus that he'd been given a chance.

"Mhm! I'd love to again some time, see those pretty lil' optics of yours." Jazz winked, watching doorwings give a full on flutter. "Glad we both agree."

"You shall be the end of me, Jazz." Embarrassment colors Prowl's words as he sits back in his chair, watching Jazz lay back on his palm, hands underneath his head as he sighs happily.

"Your hand is pretty comfy...not a sentence I ever expected to say to my boyfriend, but it is what it is."

"I suppose you shall have to make yourself comfortable then, I still have some reports to finish." Prowl clicked, grabbing the pad he'd been reading before he fell asleep.

"Gives me an excuse to nap then." Jazz moved to remove the outer layer that supported his pedes, his processor supplying the word shoe as Jazz resumed his position with a yawn. "Have fun Prowler."

"Have a pleasant recharge, Jazz."

Jazz doesn't need to know he had already completed his work before his "nap", merely settling in for a novel he'd wanted to get through as his partner slept in his grasp.

[moonstruckme]

Hiiii I’m loving Thawing out so far and this is kind of a bland request but I feel like it would be cute if Remus shows up to practice late one time and when he gets there reader and Sirius are working on like footwork or anything else really but they’re just so much isync together and he’s just staring at them in awe. Anyways it’s totally up to you if you want to use that and where you want to put it but yeah :)

Thank you lovely!! And everyone say thank you to Elle for her genius "Pads" idea ;)

collab with @ellecdc

part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4 | part 5 | part 6 | part 7 | part 8 | part 9 | part 10 | part 11 | part 12 | part 13 | part 14 | part 15 | part 16

cw: modern au, chronic pain, implicit mention of traumatic injury, blasphemous and untrue comments about Sirius' butt

poly!wolfstar x fem!reader ♡ 1.6k words

Sirius is a few minutes late to pick you up the next morning. A few more and you would’ve assumed he overslept, texted him to meet you at the rink, but Remus doesn’t make one comment about it. It seems that, like you, he finds that quips at Sirius’ expense aren’t as much fun when he’s not around to gripe at you for them. 

When Sirius does come it’s with drinks, one in each hand and a third nestled in between his elbow and his side. He had to have gotten to the coffee shop only about the same time as the baristas if he’s getting them to you this early. You plant a kiss on his cheek, reading the meaning behind the gift, the apology he won’t say aloud. It’s quite the sacrifice for him to wake up that extra bit earlier. By the way Remus’ eyes soften as he takes his drink, he reads it, too.

Of course, once you set off the teasing commences. 

“Do you not own a scarf?” Remus asks, eyeing Sirius’ wind-flushed cheeks. “Or a proper coat?”

“Oh, don’t come for his jacket.” You grin at him. “He’ll lose all his cool points if he trades that in.” 

“I can either look good, or I can be warm,” Sirius says stiffly, though you can tell by his expression he isn’t truly offended. “You can’t have both.” 

Remus doesn’t hesitate. “I’d rather be warm. You look like you have ice crystals forming on your nose.” 

Sirius huffs. “Can I smoke now?” 

“No,” you say primly. Remus appears to be hiding a grin. 

Sirius rubs the bottom of his nose and lets the two of you rag on him all the way to the rink. 

Practice is the same steady improvement, except for the death spiral. Remus is letting you grasp Sirius’ hands with both of yours for now, but you’re not bending your knee enough and Sirius’ leg is too far back. You haven’t even begun to tackle the jump you’re supposed to be launched into afterwards yet. But Remus is patient with you, and Sirius is more receptive to feedback than he has been since Peter. With the rest of your routine going so well, you’ve got time to perfect this one thing.

You’re whipping out of one of your other turns when a particular sort of smile breaks out over Sirius’ face. It’s one you know well, reserved only for one person. You don’t even need to look as he starts skating towards the edge of the rink. 

“James,” you say, following him, “what’re you doing here so early?” 

“I was given very strict instructions to make up for what happened yesterday.” James holds out a paper bag to Sirius, wrestling him into a hug. “It seemed best to comply.” 

“I hope your gift comes with an excuse,” you tease, though when it’s your turn you hug him too. You love having James around. He brightens everything he looks at, especially Sirius. 

“Well, it was Cam’s birthday,” James says as he squishes you to his front, “and he had to pick his mum up from the airport during our usual practice time. But my main excuse is that I didn’t realize it was yours we were stealing.” 

Trust James to disrupt his entire team’s practice—and yours—for one guy’s birthday.

“You’re not forgiven,” says Sirius, popping a doughnut hole into his mouth. He sounds too pleased for his grudge to be even a little believable. “We couldn’t practice at all yesterday because of you.” 

“Alright, then I’ll just have those back.”

Sirius moves quick to keep the doughnuts away from James, though he does hold one out to you.

“Mm, as I suspected,” James hums. “Anyway, I have to arrange practice for twenty three guys. You only have two, and from what I just saw you hardly need it.” 

“Three,” you correct him. “But you haven’t met our new coach. This is—”

“Remus!” 

James is looking over your shoulder, where Remus has come over from his spot at the bleachers to join you. You blink in surprise, but Sirius does a full double-take. 

“Do you know each other?” 

“Yeah.” Both boys are smiling, Remus faintly and James with his whole face, as usual. “Rem and I used to practice at the same time. Back when I would come out before the team to run drills.” 

“A long time ago,” Remus agrees. A sympathetic bit of worry starts up in your chest, but he doesn’t have that same melancholic hue to his voice that he usually gets on the rare occasions someone gets him to talk about his skating career. He sounds almost nostalgic. 

“Surprised I never ran into you,” Sirius says. He’s eyeing Remus, a familiar sort of possessiveness in his stance. You see Remus’ eyebrow lift like he notices it too. 

“Wow.” James is still beaming. You’re beginning to feel inclined to follow suit. You already like Remus, but James’ stamp of approval means everything to Sirius. You’d like to see him try to hate your coach now. “When you said you got the best of the best, you really weren’t kidding, were you?” 

You nod. “I told you.” 

Remus’ cheeks start to pinken, and your smile becomes irrepressible. 

“Right,” Remus mutters. “We’re losing practice time here. The doughnuts will be there when you get off the ice.” 

“Well, they might.” James finally succeeds in stealing the bag away from Sirius, popping a squat on the bench. “I may feel inclined to snack while I watch. You don’t mind if I sit in on practice, do you?” 

“No, of course not,” you say.

It wouldn’t make any sense for him to leave only to come back in half an hour when his practice begins. Plus, you know that no matter how many times Sirius skates in front of him, neither James’ wonderment nor the gratification Sirius gets from it ever wear off. 

James whoops and hollers when either of you land even the simplest of jumps, and you see the two boys chatting behind the plexiglass. You see Sirius seeing them, too, his expression conflicted as he watches how well they get along. 

Unbeknownst to either of you, Remus and James are watching you both with nearly equal amounts of awe, despite the fact that one of them has won heaps of gold medals in figure skating and the other couldn’t do an arabesque without falling on his face. 

“God,” says James, watching you and Sirius go through the simple footwork leading up to your spin sequence, “they are good.” 

“They are,” Remus agrees in a soft voice. His eyes are pinned to each of you, not analytical for once but simply appreciative. You and Sirius are art in motion. “They’re so in sync with each other, it’s incredible. I could have never done that with someone.” 

He feels the weight of James’ gaze when the other boy looks at him sideways. “I wasn’t sure whether you’d want to hear from me after you left, but I wanted to say I’m sorry about what happened.” 

“It’s fine, it’s hardly your fault.” The response comes easily to Remus’ tongue, a particular sort of muscle memory, well practiced during the months of grief following his injury. “Thank you, though.”

“Is it nice to be back?”

“Yeah, actually. I didn’t think it would be, but they’ve been good to work with.” Remus doesn’t know precisely what lulls the honesty out of him, but James has always had this effect. Even when they were little more than acquaintances, he felt like he could tell him anything. “They’re amazing to watch, and they…well they keep me on my toes.” 

James laughs. “I bet they do.” 

A comfortable silence descends over the two boys. They only watch you, your jumps and spins and the natural, effortless way you flow around each other on the ice. That is, until Sirius falls on his ass. 

He hits the ice hard enough that you can hear the oof he makes upon contact. You skid to a halt immediately, sliding onto your knees beside him. 

“Did you hit your head?” you ask him, slipping your palm beneath his skull to feel around. 

Sirius only groans an elongated, passionate, “Fuck,” and rolls onto his side. 

“Sirius,” you say more urgently. “What did you hurt?” 

“Did he hit his head?” You look over to see Remus standing in the entryway to the rink. He looks like he’s contemplating coming out on the ice. 

“No,” Sirius finally answers you both, loud enough that Remus and James can hear. “Just my ass.” 

“That’s alright then,” James calls back. “It was flat to begin with.” 

Sirius sits up to glare at him, a smile tugging at his lips. He rubs his tailbone. 

“Asshole,” you mumble, nudging his shoulder gently. “You scared me.” 

“I fucking scared me, I thought I broke something. That hurt.” 

“Am I going to have to get you pads like an amateur?” Remus asks as he steps out of the entryway, silently encouraging you both off the ice. James lets out a riotous bark of laughter. 

“Oh my god, please do,” he begs Remus as you both skate over to them. “It would be so fun to watch him compete at the Olympics in those.”

“Who invited you anyway?” Sirius gripes. The effect is lessened when he winces upon sitting down. 

Remus rolls his eyes and passes him the bag of doughnuts. “Make sure to ice it, Pads.” 

You turn your face towards the skates you’re unlacing to hide your smile, but James makes no such effort. His booming laughter will probably echo through the rink for years to come. 

Sirius makes sure you get your fair share of the doughnuts. They don’t even make it out of the rink with you. 

“That was interesting,” you say, tossing the empty bag into the trash as Sirius holds the door open for you. “Funny that they already knew each other. James seems to really like him.” 

Sirius frowns. “Apparently.” 

“Probably makes you think, huh?” 

“Shut up.”

[lets-try-some-writing]

(For your Mr. Pax AU:)

Imagine the kids meeting Elita. It'd be so fragging wholesome XD

It'd more then likely be after the school day, too. Lmao.

It would and I have opted to answer the call for this ask.

━━━━━━ ⊙ ❖ ⊙ ━━━━━━━━━━━━

"So kids, how was school?" Elita grinned as the children settled on their platform, spreading out homework and other assignments for the cycle. She regarded their work with interest. It seemed simple enough in her optics, but then again, the human children were very small.

"Oh! You're Elita! Optimus's wife!" Miko shot up, a huge smile on her small squishy face. The urge to reach out and poke one of her cheeks was strong, but Elita refrained. It wouldn't do to go poking the children when it was far safer just to wait until later and do it in holoform.

"I'm his Conjunx, yes." Jack pointedly did not look in her direction. Elita could almost see the way his venting would have sputtered if he were Cybertronian. She may not have been well versed in all things human as of the present moment, but even she could see he looked a moment away from exploding.

"Woah, I didn't know Optimus was married." Rafael added his own commentary, closing his laptop to look up at Elita with wide eyes. She had to fight back an awed noise at how adorable he looked. He was tiny, his glasses only making him look more like a sparkling in her optics. She wanted to poke his cheeks as well, but that would have to wait.

"He's been my Conjunx for a very long time kiddo. Since before he became Prime in fact." Miko and Rafael made awed noises, and even Jack looked up at her in surprise, his embarrassment over the parent-teacher conference forgotten.

"Really? Optimus doesn't seem like the kind of guy to well... do that?" Jack was hesitant in his words, but Elita laughed in short order. She clutched her abdomen as she considered Jack's point of view, all but cackling. Her Conjunx could be quite stern when he wanted to be, especially when stressed. She'd already heard about how Optimus shut down any attempts at being introduced to humor. It was no surprise Jack was startled.

"He wasn't always such a stoic figure. Back when we were young, we got into all sorts of trouble." Resting a servo on her hip as he laughter died down, Elita watched as the children practically lit up at the reveal. Jack was quiet with his interest, but Rafael and Miko were not.

"Optimus in trouble? Oooh this is some blackmail material I need!" Miko did a little dance in place, the plushies on her belt shifting as she did an excited twirl. Elita again had to fight the urge to pick up and cuddle the squishy organic close. It probably wouldn't end well, but she hadn't been able to hold such a small creature since Bee was freshly forged.

"I don't think you can blackmail Prime with stuff that millions of years old." Jack, being so much like Optimus, tried to rain on everyone's parade with logic. Thankfully, his little black raincloud bounced right off Miko and Rafael who were still staring at Elita like she hung the moon.

"Married couples always have wild blackmail!" Miko flailed, throwing her arms up in the air as she grinned. Jack sighed and Rafael secretly adjusted his glasses to try and hide a smile. Elita could feel it right then and there as adoration settled in her spark.

Yes, she was keeping these squishies. She could convince Optimus later.

"I have quite a few stories for you. But only if you promise to not harass Optimus with them. He's got enough going on." Holding up a digit to her derma, Elita smiled as the children each agreed, some more enthusiastically than others.

"We won't bother him. Promise." Rafael's eyes only seemed to be made bigger by his glasses. Elita's spark leapt in its chamber, the cuteness of the scene overriding her usual serious attitude as mischievousness she had long left behind began to resurge.

"Settle down then children. Let me tell you all about Orion's first visit to the docks." Elita could see Optimus out of the corner of her optic looming in the nearby hall. He looked to be mostly uncaring as he waited there, listening in. But she could see the hint of a smile on his features. He wasn't opposed to her decision, giving her all the more reason to tell her tale.

It had been so very long since they'd had anyone who cared enough to hear their story.

[aliensubstance-011]

Fiddlestan AU!!

AU where Ford gets into West Coast Tech, but Stan manages to (somehow) get into Backupsmore and gets roomed with Fiddleford! 

Stan was kicked out after Ford left (because if his brother was ready to leave home, so was Stan). Stan lived in his car & the public libraries he found (all his fake IDs are just fake Library Cards lmao. nerd). Stan also discovered he was queer (did drag for the prize money, then went OH. All these queens are treating me like this because I'm a baby queer. That makes sense. Guess I’m doing guys now.).

I like to think that Stan spent a year or two studying up after Ford left so when he gets in Fiddleford is in his second or third year! This does result in a “I'm your new roommate. You first year?” and Fiddleford going “What in tarnation... I'm THIRD year? How did we end up in the same dorm????”

At first they HATE each other- Fiddleford thinks Stan is reckless, and doesn’t know what he’s doing there, and that he’s kind of stupid, while Stan thinks Fiddleford is some stuck-up hippie who formed an opinion on Stan too quickly (he did). Once they do start talking they have a very quick ‘oh you’re actually not that bad’ moment. Fiddleford leaves before Stan, obviously, but they keep in close contact even after Fiddleford moves in with Emma-Mae. 

Stan and Ford have a huge argument about Ford not needing Stan anymore. Cue: “Of course I need you, you're my brother” “WELL YOU DON'T ACT LIKE IT”, which is another reason that Stan and Fiddleford leave together. Not long after this, around Stan’s graduation,  Fiddleford has a 'I'm gay and don't love my wife' moment, and Stan casually suggests running away, just driving (maybe something a little nostalgic in it, maybe when Stan looks back at his car he feels like he can hear a distant New Jersey shore). The next day Fiddleford shows up with a duffle bag of things, and Stan realises Fiddleford took him seriously. That he’s willing to run away with him, even if it’s not on a boat, that Fiddleford wants to. Stan gets very, very close to realising he’s in love that day. 

They run away after Stan’s graduation and just drive until they get to Gravity Falls! They set up shop there, with Fiddleford doing auto repairs (and making inventions on the side). Fiddleford confesses to Stan when they’re staying in a motel- he thinks Stan is asleep, so he just says that he thinks he’s in love with him, while Stan is laying wide awake in the bed next to him. Stan spends the next few days Freaking The Fuck Out while Fiddleford doesn’t acknowledge what he said. Stan thinks Fiddleford knew he was awake, so when he confesses back he says something along the lines of “I think I’m in love with you, too” and Fiddleford bluescreens.

Just General HCs:

Stan falls first, but doesn't realise until Fiddleford confesses.

Ford is still self centred but doesn't hate Stan. Stan resents Ford for not doing anything when he was kicked out, and a little bit for leaving him. He understands, though, why stay with your good for nothing brother when you have dreams across the country to fulfil? 

Fiddleford is Repressed Gay until he confesses his Awful Secret to Stan who's just like....”okay?”. He does get to the point of marrying Emma-mae, before he confesses to Stan. 

I don't quite know what Stan will be doing, both in Backupsmore and once they move to Gravity Falls. I like a little bit about him either doing Art or Law, but I feel as though he’s not willing nor smart enough (respectively) for either one.

Stan IS smart, don’t get me wrong, he just needs it to be something ‘physical’ that he can interact with. Fiddleford helps a lot with this (having gotten a lot of hands-on work while he was on the farm). 

I think eventually Ford does end up in Gravity Falls too, but by this point he’s distanced himself from everyone not because of Bill, but because of his own hubris. 

Because of Stan and Fiddleford being queer, I don’t think Dipper and Mabel would be allowed to visit them until their parents have no other choice- though they do hear a lot about their Grunkles and see them from time to time. 

If I did include a Bill/main timeline ish plot it’d be Fiddleford who gets tricked- maybe after Ford gets to Gravity Falls, and Bill offers a way to keep Stan happy/repair his relationship with Ford (maybe Fiddleford thinks Stan is going to run away- just without him this time. He knows Stan would never, but he could.) 

I’d probably include a B-plot where Stan thinks Fiddleford will cheat on him with Ford- they click immediately and so much better, Ford is so much smarter, he’s the better twin, because insecure Stan is my favourite thing ever. Just a small detail, but I think that Fiddleford is a lot more confident and stable with Stan, mainly because Stan has encouraged him to step out of his comfort zone so often, and has proved time and time again that all Fiddleford has to do is ask and Stan is right there to catch him.

I'm still not sure what Stan should do, so if anyone has any suggestions, let me know! That and drawing requests god let me draw them PLEASE.

[kedsandtubesocks]

give you something to dream about

joel miller x f!reader

summary: It’s game night at the bar and you stumble upon the most gorgeous man you’ve ever seen

warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY MDNI, no outbreak AU, Joel has both of his daughters, ‘strangers at a bar and maybe something more’ scenario with eventual husband!Joel, mentions of drinking, spicy making out session, Joel gets a bit handsy, gendered language / reader is addressed as “baby” & “darlin” light football discussions and terminology, lovesick and possessive!Joel

word count: 4k

a/n: this is my love letter to Joel, his love for football and maybe my own love for Texas football as well lol. To have this as my first fic of the new year and for it being for Joel means so much. To come back and write for the Pedro fandom is special and means so much. Big thank you to my babe @ahauntedcowboy for letting me scream my sports girl head off about this, and for @lowlights for giving me guidance when I needed it. And lastly - thank you for reading, you are what truly makes this so incredibly special and wonderful

A mixture of bright neon and low soft white lights bathe the bar in a cozy ambient glow. The music is barely audible, a sort of after thought. Instead commotion and the ramble of sports announcers fills the room.

You manage to squeeze through the sea of onlookers dressed in burnt orange. Maria thankfully stays close to you. Now at the bar counter relief floods you as you lean against it.

“Order me a beer, I’m gonna find our table.” Maria yells over the liveliness swirling around.

You give her a thumbs up and thankfully don’t have to wait for the bartender long.

“Like your shirt!”

The bartender’s voice catches you instantly. Bright and direct you blink towards him. He’s cute, young, maybe a grad student from UT Austin who works here.

You can’t help but glance down at what you’re wearing.

Even under your jacket the shirt is comfortably a bit larger on you. The main focus is the old cartoon type logo of Bevo, the Texas Longhorn's mascot. The burnt orange coloring is faded adding to its weathered look.

A warmth flutters through you from just seeing it.

“It’s vintage, cool as hell.” The bartender continues admiring.

“Thanks. Uh, a friend of mine gave it to me.” Thankfully the bartender nods understandingly and doesn’t press the topic more. Instead he soon asks what you’ll be having.

You order Maria’s beer and a drink for yourself.

“So, you a big Texas fan? Well okay, I mean…you gotta be if you’re here.” The bartender, grabbing a drink glass, starts up another conversation with you as his tone becomes playful.

“A lot of people I know and love are. So by default I am too.” You admit with a sleepy grin.

“Aw,” his face melts. “Now that’s sweet. Well glad to have you here cheering for Texas.”

The bartender now even winks at you. You politely laugh but then, the bar erupts silencing the conversation.

Excited yells come so loud you jump out of your skin. Quickly you turn around to view the many tvs and projectors showing the game.

From what you can tell the Texas defense managed to take down the quarterback. You even watch the replay to see what the fuss is about. It was a good tackle and the play kept the other team’s quarterback from even advancing.

The game has you memorized now. You watch as the burnt orange and white uniforms of the players scramble like chaotic ants now trying to rush after the ball was kicked, no, punted to them.

Your lips twitch. You never would’ve thought you knew this much football terminology or could at least follow the game. Yet here you are.

The bartender clears his throat and embarrassingly fast you turn back around.

Not two but three drinks sit before you on the bar counter.

One happens to be a surprise shot that makes your eyes go wide.

“Uh, so the guy at the end of the bar sent it your way.” The bartender explains lowly, trying to be discreet about it.

Your eyes instead whip up to search for the mystery man. Then your heart sprouts wings when you discover him.

Leaning against the bar rail at the very opposed end of where you are, the man seems like something out of a romance novel’s dream.

Ruggedly handsome, his distinguished aged face and striking nose glow against the mixture of neon and dim lighting. It highlights the grays in his beard and gorgeous dark hair. His chocolate eyes bore into you as if you’re the only one in this bar.

His attention on you alone has your knees weak and you wonder maybe you suddenly turned into jello.

Your mystery man lifts his beer up to you, a silent ‘cheers’ and then takes a sip.

Just watching him take a swig of his beer has you dizzy. So you readily snatch up the shot, toast it back to him and down it.

The alcohol burns, but you’re surprised it’s your favorite liquor of choice. You can’t help but cough up wildly and the bartender snickers at your reaction. It’s been too long since you’ve had a shot and you’re thankful to chase the stinging sensation down with your mixed drink.

“Hey!” Maria’s voice calls out and her bright smile greets you as she slides through the packed crowd.

“Hope you didn’t think I forgot about you.” She laughs warmly. She grabs her beer and slides a tip to the bartender.

But then her eyes notice the empty glass.

“Oh? You took a shot without me?” She teases.

You tell her someone bought it for you and her eyebrows fly up fast in eager surprise.

“Oh?” Even her tone is warmly excited. “You get a good look at who your mystery shot buyer is?”

You turn your attention towards the end of the bar, right where he should be. Except your mystery man has vanished.

A bit of disappointment trickles in.

“I did, but guess he took off.” You tell Maria a bit low.

“Well, his loss then. Come on! Let’s head back to our table-”

“S’cuse me…”

A smooth deep and accented drawl, direct and firm enough cuts through the commotion politely cutting in on Maria.

Just as fast, there’s suddenly a deep warmth behind your back. The presence is broad, warm, and smells of the beautiful hint of a sandalwood cologne.

“If you don’t mind, I think I might steal this pretty gem for myself.” The accent seems thicker now and melts off his voice like sin.

He’s talking about you.

Maria smiles wildly entertained while her eyes flicker between you and your mystery man.

Silently you stare back and with pleading eyes you mentally communicate that yes you want to stay, yes it’s okay for her to head back.

“Alrighty then, see you two later.” She says grabbing her beer and gives you one last amused look before heading back to the table.

Your heart races so loud in your ears you don’t even notice the upset yells at a bad call given by the refs.

“…Howdy…”

The voice purrs, absolutely dances against the noise of the bar and beckons to you, your personal siren’s song.

Turning around the shadow of the mystery man falls over you. He stares down with those obsidian pool eyes as his lips turn into a boyish grin.

“I’m Joel. S’nice to meet you.”

You think about all the songs that sing about Texas beauty and how they all must have actually been speaking of this man.

Joel extends his hand out to you and the simple pure southern gentleman introduction has excitement bubbling in you like you’re a champagne bottle about to pop.

Your lips fight back a disbelieved smile as you introduce yourself and shake his hand.

It’s larger than yours, warm and beautifully callous that speaks of hard work. Joel leans closer to you and you can’t help but slide more towards him as well.

“I like your shirt.” His fingers playfully tugs at the bottom edge of your shirt.

“Thanks,” you take a sip of your drink to gain more courage. “A friend of mine let me wear it.”

Joel laughs. It’s warm, touches his face and sounds like it settles in his chest.

“A friend huh?” His voice grows even more amused.

You simply hum a nod as you take another sip of your drink. Your body hums with so many wonderful emotions like a jenga tower trying to hold onto its form on a moving table.

“That friend of yours a boyfriend?” Joel asks, a dark drawl sticky as molasses and trapping you to him.

You can’t help but shake your head no. The taste of your drink momentarily settles you.

“Pretty thing like you single? Ain’t that a shame.” Joel comments with a low rumble and all the ease you had gathered floats away.

Your eyes flicker back to Joel. But your focus goes between his stunning eyes and his lips. You don’t miss the way his eyes gloss over, become hooded with a hazy desire. How much it intensifies his gorgeous features makes your stomach flutter.

The game must have quieted down or maybe you’re just this focused on this man.

He moves to whisper in your ear.

“So…Wanna find a nice quiet spot to chat? Get to know each other better?” His lips softly graze your ear and an electric current runs up your spine.

“Yeah.” You mutter back now tipsy off Joel’s presence.

The moment you agree, Joel’s hand slips towards your waist and draws you to his side. He quickly slams down plenty of bills on the counter to cover for the drinks and tip. Your poor drink and his are forgotten.

Now Joel shifts into a man focused.

Squaring up his shoulders, he stands taller as he takes the lead. His broad shoulders become a guiding force, keeping you close to him. His hand intertwines with yours while he navigates you among the crowds.

His larger hand suddenly squeezes yours, a reassuring pressure that draws you closer to him. Moving through the tables against the crowds, you arrive at the outdoor patio where the early night air clears your mind.

Joel continues guiding you to a smaller area where the bathrooms are outside by the patio. You stand before the family restroom that holds the sweet title of “cowpokes” on it. Opening the door, Joel leads you inside. You take in the slightly larger yet still small rustic bathroom that glows under the murky amber light.

The door locks behind you and you turn around to find Joel staring you down with hunger brewing in his smokey eyes.

That’s all you can focus on before you get caught up in a dizzying whirlwind.

Hastily Joel rushes forward to pin you against the wall. His body firm and large presses so deliciously against you. Before your eyes can even soak in the close sight of him, he sweeps in and kiss you with a ravenous fierceness that steals your breath.

He quickly consumes you.

Joel faintly tastes of beer and something intoxicatingly uniquely him. While his hand moves to hold your face, his tongue licks into your mouth, diving in, almost trying to get drunk off you. You can’t help but draw him closer to you as much as you can. You want your nails to dig into him the same way he’s burning under your skin and seeping into your core

His hips begin to grind against you with an eased pace and you moan into his mouth. You want more, need more.

“Oh baby.” Joel groans out and sounds like sticky delicious sin.

Suddenly the loudest cheers leak into the bathroom.

So fierce in their excitement it echos into the room and freezes you and Joel immediately.

He sighs against your lips.

“We must‘ve scored.” Joel mutters.

“Are you upset you didn’t see it?” You ask gently and kiss his lips soft as the heat begins to settle.

“Nah. I’m aimin’ to score here myself.” He grins and the line has you laughing. Your face goes to rest against his as you continue to snicker. The prickle of his beard gently scratching against your skin feels wonderful.

“Darlin’ you’re killin’ me. I wanted to sound slick.” Joel sighs again, sounding deflated now.

“You did...sort of.” You smile.

“Forgive me,” He smirks and turns to press another soft kiss against your lips. “Been outta practice for a while.”

“You aren’t too bad, cowboy. You managed to get me in here.” You hum amused while your fingers run against his jaw, through his scruffy wonderful beard.

Joel chuckles and it dances within his chest, resonating through him.

“You’re the only one I want in here.” He mutters.

You and him share a few more soft slow eased kisses that are rushed, almost shy now.

With one last kiss, a deeply melting one that now makes you ache to keep him here, Joel pulls away. You hold yourself back from pouting.

But, you’re now rewarded with the sight of Joel fully before you. The dim amber light paints him like something pulled from a sunset dream, an aged handsome man so sweet with his furrowed concentrated eyes.

You watch Joel pat around his jean pockets and suddenly your eyes go wide.

“Joel Miller if you lost them-”

“Calm down!” He huffs cutting you off while he rapidly digs into his deep jeans pocket. He yanks something out in his grasp.

He smoothly slides closer back to you and holds out his palm where two wedding rings sit waiting.

His and yours.

Your heart melts out of your chest seeing them and your ring finger itches for its missing piece. You grab Joel’s ring, leaving him yours and move to slide his back onto his hand.

In the same manner, Joel slides your wedding band back onto its rightful place. The memory of when you did this at your actual wedding faintly flutters in and settles warm in your heart’s chamber.

Joel draws your hand to his lips and kisses your knuckles.

This man, your husband - you yank him towards you again to kiss him.

It’s a kiss that’s like coming home, of sweetness and cultivated bliss reuniting together again.

“Wanna see that bartender try flirtin’ with ya now with that ring on your finger.” Your grumpy husband grumbles adorably.

You bark a laugh. “Oh please, he was being nice for the tip and you know it.”

“Uh huh.” Joel dryly huffs as he stares at you unamused.

“Hey he was nice. He even liked my shirt.” You reply back.

“My shirt.” Joel clarifies strongly. “That’s my shirt.”

You roll your eyes playful.

He is right though. The shirt is his. Your husband is a superstitious football fan. And ever since you wore his shirt and Texas won, Joel used his beautiful brown eyes as weapons to get you to wear his shirt every game since then.

“Come on, curious to see what the score is.” With one last sweet kiss, Joel leads you back out into the evening air.

Hand in hand with him, you find your way to Tommy and Maria. Both of them brighten up at the sight of you and Joel.

“Hey! Look at that! You’re a married man again!” Tommy cries happily and you laugh. Joel, after sliding your chair in for you, rolls his eyes now while you and Maria snicker to each other.

“Bet it was fun while it lasted.” Maria grins.

“Eh.” You shrug but the truth tugs at your lips amused.

A few nights ago, when you and Joel had come up with this idea of going to the bar without the rings, pretending to not know each other, you worried for a split moment that you’d enjoy the freedom.

You worried you would realize how much you missed and enjoyed the playful banter, the flirting and pull that comes with being single. But instead you simply found your way back to Joel.

The excitement of seeing him, of having that same sensation rush through you like it did when you first met him, was nostalgically addictive for a moment.

However, you instead soak in the comfort of sitting beside Joel because it feels like coming home. While being single for another moment again was fun, you want to find Joel in every lifetime, find him as your husband in every universe.

The bar suddenly breaks into wild excitement. Joel as well cheers so loud. You turn to the game and find Texas intercepted a pass.

Now you go to check your phone and find both your daughters thankfully are doing fine. Sarah even sent you a photo text of her and Ellie at the classmate’s birthday party they’re both at. There’s a lightness that settles into your bones seeing them and having their father, your husband, beside you.

Joel and Tommy, as if they’re ESPN announcers in deep analysis, dive back into how Texas needs to sharpen up their offensive line. It’s adorable. It makes you fall in love even more with him.

Maria goes to ask Tommy something about the game and Joel leans towards you.

“You happy to be married again?” His voice drops soft and low. You catch the hint of true curiosity and almost hesitation residing under his tone.

“Of course. It’s my luckiest day all over again.” You truthfully tell him with a warm grin.

“Yeah?” He mutters tenderly as his eyes flicker to your lips again. “Make sure you share some of that luck with the team alright?”

You playfully nudge his arm and Joel smirks. You love him like this, light and teasing.

Joel drops a kiss to the side of your head.

“Don’t worry baby, this is my lucky day too. Goin’ home with the most gorgeous person here and I’m married to her.”

You could say the same thing. You’re leaving with the most handsome man and knowing you’re married to him? You feel honored, proud, and grateful.

Even when he starts yelling at the quarterback as if the poor guy can hear him.

“I could throw a better pass than that!” He argues upset.

You’re not as big of a fan as Joel, but Texas holds a place in your heart forever. It intertwined you and him in its own unique way.

Back when you were dating Joel patiently explained the game, so gently spoke to you without any judgment when you asked questions you were sure would make any other seasoned fan mock you or get annoyed. But not your Joel.

The first big moment you met Ellie and Sarah it was over at his place during a Texas game.

You experienced how wildly invested Ellie got, just like Joel, and how amused Sarah got seeing her dad and sister scream at the tv. From that point - all the days, the games, laughs and moments cultivated into a path that has led you to this moment, to this bar.

And now, here you are.

You love Joel’s love for the game, for the sport. You love how it’s connected you to him.

“Honey, you okay?” The voice of your husband pulls you from your thoughts, like a call home.

You turn to find Joel intently looking at you, your sweetheart provider. You can’t help but grin and nod.

“Yup, just thinking about the handsome stranger I met earlier. Hope he asks for my number.” You tell him.

Joel breaks into a chuckle that touches his earth eyes.

“Between you and me, he’d be a fool if he didn’t.” His hand now slides to yours, his thumb even begins to twist and fiddle with your wedding ring, a sweet habit of his.

You snort amused at how effortlessly he can play along with you.

Before you can tease him again or even wander back into your thoughts, the crowd roars to life with shouts. All eyes including yours snap to the game.

Texas just intercepted the ball and the play breathes life into the bar, into your husband who claps loud and proud.

It’s a great energy to see the end of the second quarter and the start of the halftime.

Suddenly, Joel’s hand begins softly trailing against your thigh. Warm and almost eased, the slow movement ignites a blooming desire in your chest.

Joel easily laughs with Tommy about the game. His eyes stay on his brother. Yet Joel’s hand slides now confidently deeper into the inside of your thigh. Your throat tightens and heat now begins to soak between your thighs, almost daring him to touch you.

Then a collection of happy cheers burst in the bar and steals all the attention.

All the tables nearby including yours turn to find a group of ladies. One of them currently grabs the cowboy hat off a taller man who grins so warmly down at her. She laughs loudly after doing what had to have been a wild shot.

The guy orders her, and her friends, another round causing them to squeal loud and excited again. Maria leans back to talk to Tommy and so you too lean closer to your own husband.

“Maybe I should pretend to be single again.” You tell Joel. “To see if I’ll get free shots and attention like that.”

Not that you’d want any of that. You just enjoy teasing your sweet grumpy husband from time to time.

“Nope.” Joel says with an unwavering sharpness. “You ain’t going anywhere without that ring Mrs. Miller.”

His words are rather light, almost playful, but you catch the underlying possessive simmering. It ignites an even stronger warmth beneath your skin.

“And who says you don’t get free shots? I’ll buy you as many as ya want.” Joel adds and his clipped almost ruffled voice has you laughing.

But as you settle, your thoughts wander. The smell of Joel so close, the mixture of his faint cologne and the detergent you use to wash his clothes, brings back the sensation of having that smell surround you when you were in the restroom with him.

It makes you ache.

Your hand now softly wanders to rub his warm broad chest. A low rumble comes from him, an awareness of your presence as you drape against him now. Maria and Tommy thankfully have begun to make fast friends with the couple sitting beside your table.

Your face leans to rest against Joel’s and the slick honey like desire you felt earlier creeps over you once more. It urges you to be bold.

“Wanna go mess around before halftime is over?” You offer soft and low, only for his ears.

Joel peers over to you, his eyes now smoldering coals.

“You wanna?” He mutters back.

Your answer comes as a soft kiss you place against his cheek. However, your hand now begins to slide up his thigh just like he did to you earlier.

Joel loudly clears his throat and sits up fast which untangles you from him. Immediately he yanks out his wallet to slam his card on the table.

Tommy and Maria now blink back at the sudden action.

“Order anything y'all want. We gotta grab somethin’ from the truck.” Joel lies effortlessly.

But Maria knows as she grins knowingly while embarrassment instead rises in you.

And apparently her husband isn’t as easily fooled either.

“Yeah yeah! Get outta here ya horn dogs!”

Joel barks a sharp ‘hey!’ at his younger brother’s crudeness while you can only laugh against him. Tommy simply makes obnoxious kissy faces while Maria snickers besides him. Unable to endure anymore teasing Joel playfully calls Tommy a piece of shit and with that you wave a quick and thankful to Tommy and Maria.

Joel once again leads the way to the entrance.

The two of you now stay stuck together closer than earlier. An almost giddy frenzy now keeps you both hyper aware of the other. His hands keep you so firmly close to him.

The giddiness you had earlier while pretending to be single with Joel is nothing compared to this. This feeling swirling in you comes from knowing you get to sneak away with your husband. It has you floating, only tied to this world by Joel keeping you steady and protected.

Around you, small chatter about the game hangs in the air.

Texas might not win. But as you slide closer to Joel, a unique shade of triumph washes over you.

Your good man, your wonderful husband.

He is your victory and champion.

Your victory lap and your welcome home party all at once.

And when he kisses you wildly against the side of his truck…you think he might also be your sneaky devilish opponent as his hand already starts to slip under your, no his shirt.

And you wouldn’t have it any other way.

[wooahaeproductions]

Tracing Time (part one)

Kwon Soonyoung (Hoshi) x Female Reader

Summary: In order to cope with your mother’s death, you decide to study abroad in Rio for the summer just like she did. You come upon the diary she kept during that time, following all that she did 20 years ago. However, you didn't expect finding love would be part of that process.

Genre: fluff, angst, romance, comedy, smut (in part two), strangers to lovers au, neighbors au, college au

Word count: ~4.7k

Warnings: mentions of a family members death and mentions of ways to cope. Part two will have smut and will have it's own warnings.

Rating: 18+ for the completed fic

A/N: It's finally here! I struggled to write this for some reason but hopefully part two will come easier. This fic is for svthub's 2024 World Tour Collab and I am so happy to be apart of another collab. Please check out all the other amazing works as well! I also want to thank my beta readers Summer @beomcoups and Kiki @nonuify 🥰~Maren

You took a deep breath as you stopped in front of the student housing building and started at its gorgeous architecture before pulling an old photo from the front pocket of your bag. You held it out in front of you, confirming this was the building the smiling woman in the photo was standing in front of. You were here, standing in the same spot your mother had at your age when she studied at the very same summer exchange program in Brazil that you were going to.

You slipped the photo back into your bag and took one more big breath before bringing yourself and your luggage into the lobby of the building. You were supposed to meet the student liaison for the university exchange program there to get your dorm keys along with your class information. You looked around the large lobby in awe. It looked much more like a hotel with its grand marble floors and sophisticated ambiance than student accommodations. 

“You must be Y/N!” You heard a woman say in accented English and you spotted her walking across the lobby toward you. She was an older woman wearing a designer pantsuit, and her hair looked like she had just been at a salon. You certainly weren’t in Chicago anymore. Everything was different here, and you had only been at the airport and this place so far. 

“Hi, I am she,” you responded to the woman, feeling a little overwhelmed already. Which honestly wasn’t that unusual given the circumstances of the past year. 

“Welcome to PUC University and Rio de Janeiro. I’m Mrs. Delgado,” she said. She must have sensed how overwhelmed you were because she gave your arm a gentle pat before continuing. She pulls a packet of paper out of the bag she was carrying and hands it to you. “This is your class schedule and some information about the benefits available to you as an exchange student. There are only three classes since it is a summer program, one being the Portuguese class that all of our international students are required to take, Drawing 110, and Brazilian Art and Architecture.” 

After explaining your schedule, she then pulled out a set of keys that jingled on an ornate keychain, one that matched the building. “And these are the keys to your dorm,” she said, handing them to you. “I’ll let you get settled and ready for your first day tomorrow. If you need anything, don’t hesitate to contact me and boa sorte!” A second later, she was gone leaving you staring at your dorm number on the keychain. 

“203,” you murmured the number, looking around to see if there was any indication of where your room would be. You opted to ask the boy manning the front desk, whose English was actually great. He pointed to the staircase on the other end of the lobby and told you it was up those and to the right. Just as you were about to head up the stairs, wheeling your suitcase behind you, someone just about knocked you over. A guy to be exact, a handsome one at that. 

“Oh my gosh, I’m late. I’m so sorry, but I’m late!” He blurted, briskly brushing past you with a rushed apology. You stood at the bottom of the stairs, blinking while he ran out of the building. You didn’t have the energy to think about him right now despite his looks, not that you ever entertained the idea of a meet-cute this way or god forbid actually falling in love in this scenario.

You shook your head and put the handle down on your suitcase so you could carry it upstairs with you. You turned the key in the door to your room and walked in, your eyes taking in where you would live for the next few months. It was simple, much like a hotel room but you did have a tiny kitchenette that you didn’t expect to have and a window that looked out to the square that was in front of the building.

You brought your suitcase up on the twin bed so you could unpack a few things before thinking about finding dinner. You put a few clothes in the small dresser that was there before stumbling upon the whole reason you were here: your mom’s diary. You picked it up and sat on the edge of the bed with it, fingertips stroking the leather cover.

Six months earlier 

People were coming in and out of the house giving you and your family words of condolences, but everything was a blur to you. You sat on the couch in the living room when you had all come back from the funeral home, numb to everything. Tears had long since been exhausted, and now all you were was an empty shell, an empty shell without a mother. You were vaguely aware that your grandmother had sat down next to you, brushing your bangs out of your eyes before gently placing a book in your lap: your mother’s diary from when she was the same age as you.

You opened the leather book up, looking at the cover page that you had stared at so many times since your grandmother had given it to you. You recognized your mom’s loopy writing confirming that the diary belonged to her and Summer 1985 written underneath. You turned the page to the first entry, the one that had the photo of your mother outside this building stuck in right before it. It was dated June 15th of that year, when she arrived in Brazil and was in the same student housing. 

As you read your mother's account of her arriving at student housing, you couldn’t help but feel as if you were hearing her voice again. It was almost as if you were just on a trip and you were reading a letter she sent you. But of course, you weren’t just on any trip, and she was gone. 

Your stomach grumbled, interrupting your reading, and you closed the diary. You sighed, wondering if you should venture out to find something to eat. You pulled out your phone and laid down on the bed for a few minutes while you looked to see if there was someplace close that sounded decent. However, jet lag took over, and you fell asleep with your phone in your hand, it falling and smacking you on the forehead some time later.

Fourteen hours later, you awoke to your phone alarm going off. You panicked. Was that the first time your alarm went off? Were you late for your first class? You hadn’t meant to fall asleep at all, but that darn jet jag overcame you. Pressing your finger on the phone screen to silence the alarm, you were relieved to find that it really was just your first alarm. It was 7:30 am and you weren’t late, you had plenty of time. Which was a good thing because your stomach had upgraded from the light growling from last night to feeling like it was about to eat itself. 

You had done your research before enrolling in the summer program and knew that the university offered a student cafeteria for meals that was part of the tuition fee. You assumed it was in the packet of information you received yesterday as well, but you hadn’t had time to look over that yet. You got dressed in a simple sundress, one that was classy and suited to the warm weather in Rio. You grabbed the book bag with all your class materials from where you placed it at the small table by the door and headed out of your dorm.

The lobby was bustling with others probably also headed to their morning classes. The university’s campus was only a short distance away, so you opted to walk although it looked like the dorms had bikes outside the building that you could borrow if you wanted to. Your first class didn’t begin until 9 am and you would have plenty of time to get there as well as get breakfast at the cafeteria. 

You walked out of the dorm building and out to the cobbled stoned square. You paused to bring a map up on your phone, making sure you were about to head in the correct direction. You continued to walk on the brownish-gray stones as you passed by a few little shops before the cobblestones turned into a normal concrete street. You followed it up a small hill before you reached a large traffic circle with the main university building behind it. 

Luckily there was a campus map just outside the doors to the main entrance. You looked at it, finding where the cafeteria was and also noting where the international building was for your class afterward. The cafeteria was teeming with students getting food, mostly breakfast at this early hour. You got in line and grabbed some sliced fruit and scrambled eggs, as well as some coffee. They had some items that were also common for Brazilian culture, but you opted to try those later when you were less nervous and didn’t have a class to attend right after.

You scanned your meal card at the checkout which had been in the packet of information that Mrs. Delgado had given you yesterday. You chose an empty table near the windows and ate your food as leisurely as you could before class. Your stomach was no longer trying to eat itself and all that remained was an uncertain feeling in the pit of it. You didn’t even know why you felt all this turmoil, but nothing felt right or even normal since your mother passed.

You placed your empty tray at one of the receptacles by the door and walked out of the cafeteria. You followed the path you mapped out earlier, leading to the international building. You had about 15 minutes before the class started, so you didn’t need to hurry. You looked around at the buildings on your way. The campus looked much like a normal campus but all buildings were made from stucco material and the main roads had a wave-like pattern in them.

You reached the classroom after a few minutes. The door was on the outside of the building and you opened it. Still being a bit early, there were only a few people in the classroom. You chose a seat in the middle, not too far in the front but not too far in the back. You sat your bookbag on the floor next to you, took out the textbook with your notebook and a pen, and set them on the table in front of you. A couple of loud students entered the classroom and you couldn’t help but look up at the noise. 

You couldn’t believe your eyes. The same boy who nearly ran you over yesterday was among the group. You inwardly groaned. Worse yet, when he scanned the room for a seat, he spotted you. You looked down at the desk, trying to hide your face to no avail. “Oh! It’s you!” He exclaimed, coming to sit in the space next to you. You kept looking in every other direction but his, hoping he would think you were actually someone else.

He didn’t seem to be aware that you were trying to avoid eye contact and continued to introduce himself. “Hi, I’m Soonyoung! I’m really sorry for almost running into you yesterday but I hope we can be friends since it looks like we are both exchange students!” Now you couldn’t help but stare at him. How could someone have so much energy and also be so clueless to your anti-social cues? Your brain was tired just listening to him ramble on. 

You weren’t sure what else he was saying but it sounded like he asked a question. “-your name?” Oh, great, he was asking for your name. You contemplated not telling him, but he would probably annoy it out of you anyway. “I’m Y/N,” you responded, your irritation slightly bleeding into your tone. Soonyoung didn’t get to say anything after that. Luckily, the teacher walked into the classroom at that moment, clapping his hands to gain everyone’s attention and effectively cutting off any conversations happening. 

The teacher, who introduced himself as Mr. Morales went over the class syllabus, and then you started in on the first chapter of the textbook which introduced the different sounds the Portuguese language had versus English. You avoided Soonyoung’s gaze the entire time but you could feel it on you. As soon as class was dismissed, you threw your belongings back in your bag and booked it out of the classroom before he had time to think about catching you. 

You didn’t have more classes today, your other two would happen tomorrow so you had planned to take the somewhat long trek to see the famous statue in Rio, Christ the Redeemer. It would take you about an hour and a half by bus, but your mother had visited it, so you wanted to as well. You pulled out the bus timetable and map (one of the many things in the packet that Mrs. Delgado had given you) from your bag as you walked back toward the front of campus where the bus stops were.

You found the stop for the correct bus number and sat down in a seat under the covered area to avoid the early afternoon sun. The timetable showed the bus you needed would be there in about five minutes and once you got off it, you would have to decide if you wanted to walk to the statue or if you were going to take a tram. 

You sat there watching students walk by as you waited, looking like they were having the best time being at school. You felt so out of place, questioning why you even decided to come here. Would this really make you feel closer to your mother, make you feel better about her being gone? You highly doubted you’d ever feel better about the latter. 

You stuck your hand inside your bookbag, finding your mother’s diary and brushing your hand over the smooth leather surface. Somehow feeling the front of the book, touching a physical item of hers always soothed your thoughts. You knew you would continue feeling like you didn’t belong in a place as amazing as Rio, but you wanted to keep seeing what she saw and hearing her voice through diary entries, even if it was something you could only hear in your head. 

The bus arrived, pulling you out of your thoughts and you got up to get on it. You tapped the bus pass on the pad at the front near the driver and scanned the bus. There were quite a few people on the bus but it wasn’t packed. You spotted a window seat near the middle and took it. The ride was kind of long but you had nice scenery to look at and the bus wasn’t too loud. You took some time to relax a little and soak it all in. 

About an hour later, the bus had reached its destination. You had arrived at the bottom of a somewhat large mountain near the entrance to a rainforest. You looked at how high it was and at the statue at the top. You definitely were not going to hike that today, and opted to take the tram that was available instead. There was a little kiosk nearby where you bought your tram ticket and a schedule posted on the side that said the tram came every 5 minutes at this time of day.

Luckily, you didn’t have to wait long at all since you bought your ticket just a minute or two before the next one arrived. You handed your ticket over to the driver and got on the tram. It reminded you of those trams they had when you went to the zoo or something. The sides were open so you could feel the breeze as the tram climbed the mountain and you could smell the different plants and trees.

The further the tram climbed, the closer the famous statue got, and soon you arrived at the bottom of it. The tram stopped at the park at the top of the mountain that contained Christ the Redeemer. You got off the tram, in awe of how big the statue really was. You knew it was big, but seeing it in person was something else entirely. 

Many people surrounded the bottom of the statue and there were no benches to be seen. You found an empty area on one side and decided to sit on the concrete floor of the platform. Looking up at the statue, you settled in your sitting spot and pulled your sketchbook and your mother’s diary from your bag. You opened the diary to the next unread page, dated a week later than the first. Another photo was stuck in the pages and you took it out, seeing another photo of your mother smiling, with Christ the Redeemer in the background.

June 21st, 1985

Rio has been amazing. I haven’t been here long but it sometimes feels like home to me. I feel like I belong here with all this incredible architecture. And guess what? I met a boy! I came to visit the famous Christ the Redeemer statue and he offered to take my photo with the statue. He was actually in the middle of drawing a caricature for another girl but dropped everything when he saw I was trying to take a photo of myself with the statue. I couldn’t help but swoon a little. I found out he studies drawing at the same university that I’m attending for the summer. And then he asked me out for dinner! I’m really excited to go on a date with him. Will this just be a summer fling or could it be more? 

You took in this entry. Did your mom meet someone here? Was it your dad? You couldn’t help but be curious about this man and you wondered how far their relationship had gotten. Was he the person from whom you got your talent for drawing? You had so many questions and knew that those questions might go unanswered. For now, you opted to try and feel connected by drawing something yourself.

You took your sketch pencils out of the small pocket at the front of your bag and opened your sketchbook up to a blank page. Setting it in your lap, you looked around, deciding what you wanted to sketch exactly. Just the statue or the people surrounding it too? You decided to just sketch the statue to start with and fill in surrounding areas as you saw fit. You drew, looking up every once in a while to look at the small details of the statue. 

One time you looked up and noticed someone busking close to the bottom of the statue a little bit in front of you. He looked cute from just a glance. He was dancing to a little boombox playing near him with a cup next to it, collecting any change people were willing to give. You looked closer and realized who the dancer was. Soonyoung. You sighed in annoyance. Was he everywhere? Was the universe messing with you?

You continued to draw, hoping he was too distracted by his busking to notice you. There were tons of people around, there was no way he could spot you among all of them. As you sketched your eyes couldn’t help but be drawn back to him like a magnet. His dance moves were sharp but smooth and you could see his routine completely consumed him. You kept taking glances while sketching.

You were finishing up the last few lines when you heard your name called. You thought he was too enthralled with his busking to notice you, but you were very wrong. He picked up his cup of change and his boombox and jogged over to where you were. “I didn’t expect to see you here,” he said, stopping in front of where you were sitting and giving you a smile that made the corners of his eyes crinkle.

“Um, yeah. I decided to do some sightseeing and do some sketching,” you responded, a little meekly. You felt weird around him now for some reason. He was annoying in class earlier, but now he seemed different and you weren't sure what to think. He was still bright and energetic but not irritatingly so. 

“Oh, you draw?” he asked, a bit surprised.

“Yeah, that’s what I’m studying here this summer. Art,” you explained.

“Cool! I’m here for performance arts if the busking hadn’t given you a heads up already,” He offered with a small laugh.

He paused your small conversation for a minute to take a look at his change cup to see how much he had made today.

“Listen, if you are done with what you wanted to do today..there’s a nice cafe near the tram station and if you are hungry, I made more than enough money today so I’d like to treat you,” He rambled. It wasn’t exactly a question, but the way he said it was actually kind of cute.

You were hungry and you supposed it couldn’t hurt, right? “Alright,” you agreed and a smile stretched across his face again. You put your sketchbook, pencils, and mom’s diary back in your bag and stood up, brushing your pants off from any dirt that you picked up while sitting on the ground. Maybe you should take a page from your mom’s book and get to know Soonyoung a little more.

You both walked back down off the statue’s platform and down the stairs to where the tram would pick you up and take you back down the mountain and to where the cafe Soonyoung mentioned would be. Once again, you did not have to wait long for the tram to arrive and you both got on, Soonyoung sitting next to you.

You could feel the breeze again as the tram descended the mountain this time. You looked over to find Soonyoung looking out the other side quietly, the wind ruffling his hair lightly. He had the same smile on his face as earlier, making his face look strangely childlike compared to the manly confidence he had earlier while busking. You liked seeing the two different sides of him. It was cute. He could be quiet when he was by himself, a big difference from when he was with a crowd.

While you were busy staring at Soonyoung, the tram stopped back at the bottom of the mountain. “Y/N?” Soonyoung questioned, holding out a hand to pull you up from the seat.

“Oh, sorry,” you said, not realizing you had spaced out. You took his hand as he pulled you up, noticing how big it was. It felt nice, having your hand engulfed in his. You continued to hold on to it as you both got off the tram. When you both got off, you let go awkwardly, not wanting to give Soonyoung the wrong idea (even if you did really like holding his). You hadn’t even been on a date yet. He gave a nervous chuckle and just beckoned you to follow him. 

You followed him down a few streets from the park area where you guys were previously, to a little hole-in-the-wall cafe that was surrounded by other shops and small apartments. It was small and felt homey when you walked in the door with Soonyoung. You waited at the front for a minute or two before someone came by to seat you. “Oh? I see you brought a friend today!” The waitress said before grabbing some menus and guiding you to open-air seating at a back patio that featured a small garden to the side of it.

She sat you two at a table and sat the menus in front of you. “I’ll be back in a few to take your order,” she said before giving Soonyoung a knowing wink. 

“I take it you come here a lot,” you commented.

“You could say that,” he responded with a sheepish grin, “I usually make enough to come here each time I busk, so two to three times a week?” 

“Two to three times a week?!” You were surprised that he busked that often and that he chose to come here every time.

“Yeah, it’s the only way for me to make some extra cash. I’m here through a special program so they only pay for my tuition and dorm fees,” he explained. You nodded. You were similar, except that you had your grandmother sending you spending money when you needed it. 

You turned your attention to the menu, trying to decide what to eat. There were a lot of options but you decided to try a more traditional Brazilian stew called Feijoada. Something hearty sounded good after the busy day you’ve had so far. The waitress came by and took your order while Soonyoung ordered Moqueca, another type of stew but with seafood.

You made more small talk while waiting for your food to arrive such as where you were originally from (You: Chicago, Him: Seoul) and what types of foods you liked. You passed the time well enough that your food felt like it came out quickly. It looked amazing and your stomach confirmed how hungry you were by giving a small growl. Loud enough, however, to make Soonyoung let out a small giggle.

You start digging in when Soonyoung nervously broaches a topic. “So, when we were at Christ the Redeemer you mentioned doing some sightseeing. I don’t know if I’m reading too much into things, but it seems like it was more than just seeing the sights here.”

You put down your spoon and contemplate whether you want to open up to him or not. You sighed before starting your explanation. “You’re right, it’s not just general sightseeing. In fact, my mom is the whole reason I’m here.”

“Your mom?” He asked, prompting you to continue.

“Yeah…she um, died about 6 months ago,” you said, looking down at your stew like it was the most fascinating thing in the world at the moment.

“Oh, Y/N. I’m so sorry,” Soonyoung frowned, his voice turning sympathetic and you swore his eyes had a sheen to them.

“It’s…okay. Or at least it’s becoming okay,” you responded honestly and then continued. “Anyway, my grandma gave me my mom's diary. One she kept while she was here doing this program with the university. So I decided to do it too and see all the same sights she did hoping it might make me feel closer to her or something? I don’t know.” You were rambling a little now. 

“I think that’s neat,” Soonyoung said after a minute.

“You do?” You asked, a bit surprised.

“Yeah, I think it’s cool. You get to go stand where she stood and see the same things she saw with her own eyes. That’s definitely a good way to feel closer to someone,” He encouraged.

“It does,” you agreed.

“This might sound weird and I know we’ve only known each other a few days but would it be okay if we go to the places your mom did together?” Soonyoung asked. His eyes no longer had the sheen you saw a minute ago but instead held a mixture of empathy, excitement, and something else you couldn’t decipher. 

Before you knew it, you found yourself nodding. “I think I’d like that,” you said, a smile starting to tug at the edges of your lips. Then you leaned over the table to give him a small peck on the cheek. He looked a little stunned for a minute but then he smiled back, a wide smile that showed his teeth and you had to admit he was adorable. 

How could you go from being so annoyed by him to liking him a lot in just one day? You didn’t know but maybe your mom would have wanted this for you.

©️wooahaeproductions

All works on this blog are protected under copyright. Do not repost, continue, or translate my works.

[cutecatlov3r]

𝐜𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐮𝐩𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧

izuku midoriya x reader ! (fem)

synopsis: when an innocent religious boy comes into your hands the only thing you can do is ruin his pure mind.

word count: 3.5k

warnings/tw: all characters are 18+, no quirks, college AU, corruption, mentions religion, a little bit of disrespect about religion, praise, oral (m!), hickeys, masturbation(?), facial, finger sucking, hair pulling, piv, unprotected sex, and... I'll let you figure it out.

a/n: gah this is a virgin izuku book >///<... stay tuned for the end... trust me, you want to read it. oh and please like, comment. and re-blog ily ! don't copy my work. not proofread. who wants a part 2 ?…

song: HEAVEN AND BACK [Chase Atlantic]

You yawned, moving through the crowded party. Sighing, you tried looking for your roommate, Mina Ashido. You must admit, you already have had a couple of drinks so you were pretty buzzed, walking around all the flashing lights didn't make your mind feel any more at ease.

"Y/n?~" a voice asked you. It was a feminine voice, a voice you knew way too well.

You turned around to see your roommate. She looked drunk off her ass. Her hair was frizzing up, her shirt covered in alcohol, and her eyes barely open. You shook your head, snapping a picture of her to show her in the morning.

You giggled, watching her stumble into your arms.

"Mina, are you ready to go home?" you asked, only a bit concerned for her well-being. She can get a little crazy at parties

"Y/n~ Noooooo, I don't wanna go home yet~ *hic* Plus you still haven't even met my *hic* friends~" she slurred, furrowing her eyebrows.

The whole reason you were at the party is to meet Mina's 'Out of town' friends. Oh, trust me, you've met her main group, sleeping with all of them whenever you feel like it. You couldn't help yourself! You regularly call Bakugou over to fuck you whenever you want him to, but that's a whole different story.

"Mina? Oh! Mina! There you are," a familiar face said, sighing in relief. The familiar face was none other than Shoto Todoroki, you've met him a few times, he didn't go to your university. Not to say that you two fucked or anything but you guys definitely did some hand stuff not too long ago.

Shoto is from a Christian school, he doesn't believe in the ways of God but he is forced to go. Every weekend he comes to your university's parties to disobey his father and obey his own beliefs. He is an atheist, not caring for religions, you can say the same thing.

"Aw, Shoto! I didn't know you were here," you teased, giving the boy a tight hug. You adored his sensitive reactions to your slightest touch. He hugged you back.

"I didn't see you here, glad to know you're here though," he smiled, holding on to your waist. Was he being more bold today? You rolled your eyes, taking his hands away from your waist, the only thing on your mind was making sure Mina got home safely. You shouldn't get distracted by Shoto's charms.

"Where's *hic* Zu... Zuku... And Chako?" Mina cried, shaking Shoto's shoulders. Shoto looked at your calm face, pausing his train of thought before turning back to Mina.

"He's upstairs, he needed some air. You know how he gets around crowded places. And Ochako is with Jirou and Hagakure," Shoto replied, shrugging.

Mina shook her head, too dazed to say anything to Shoto.

"Zuku?" you questioned. You were unfamiliar with the name. You knew Ochako, only due to her relations with your girl friends.

"Izuku," Shoto corrected. "He's a friend of ours from my school, could you go and grab him? I think he's ready to go home, he doesn't do so well around big crowds. I'll try and get Mina out of the house too, she looks really... Not well..." he muttered.

Mina whined, protesting against him. Of course she wanted to stay but she needed to leave, she was well over being blacked out.

"Don't make us call Sero, you know he will whoop your ass," you commented, sternly.

Mina shut her mouth, quickly. "Yes ma'am," She was ready to comply with whatever you guys said.

"He's in the last room down the hallway," Shoto explained, picking up Mina. He tossed her over his shoulder, trying to get through the crowd.

You nodded. All you have to do is grab Shoto's friend, you trust Shoto enough to leave him with Mina. You know he'd never do anything to make a woman uncomfortable, ever.

You made your way upstairs. The bass of the music made the entire house shake. You were surprised the party hadn't gotten a noise complaint yet. Moans and groans filled the hallway you walked through, horny adults probably filled every single room available for access. You made a mental note to call Bakugou over tonight for some fun.

Eventually you reached the last door of the hallway. Slowly, you opened the wooden door. The room seemed empty from the looks of it, you decided to look around. A huge bed was in the middle of the room, furniture organized around. The room did have a nice color pallet, white and gold. The two colors that embody purity, you loved them.

"Izuku?" you called out, exploring the dim lighted room.

The door to the balcony opened, stepping into the room with you was a fluffy green haired boy. The darkness of the room was hard to really see any features of him. The moonlight from outside did let you see the little freckles displayed on his face though.

"U-um... Who... Are you?" the male asked, shutting the door behind him quickly.

"Are you Izuku?" you asked, wondering if you might have gotten the wrong room.

The boy nodded his head.

"Oh, Shoto wanted me to come and grab you," you conversed. You walked over to a bedside table, turning on the lamp that was on it. You didn't really enjoy being in the dark. Once you turned around you finally saw the man you were speaking too. His eyes averted from your figure, you were in a proactive outfit that showed all of your natural curves. He wore a regular shirt and jeans but what had your full attention was the silver cross that dangled from him neck. One word... Innocence.

A sinister smirk appeared on your lips. "Or we can stay here and get to know each other," you suggested, shrugging. You sat on the bed, waiting for Izuku to join you. Izuku was flustered by your boldness. He took a deep breath, thinking back on what Shoto had told him about meeting new people. He never really came out to parties, usually the only places he went that had lots of people is church.

He made his way to your lustful energy. Izuku sat on the bed with you. "I'm Y/n," you greeted.

"I'm Izuku Midoriya," he said, giving an unsure smile.

His emerald colored eyes were a sight to see, they were beautiful. You shook your head, snapping back into reality. Izuku just stared at your own hypnotizing gaze.

"I heard you go to Shoto's school. You believe in God?" you asked, curiously.

"W-what?! Of course I do! God is my ruler. He is my only God," Izuku rambled. You thought his little ramble about God was adorable. He seemed very passionate about his religious beliefs.

All you could do was shrug. "I can't relate but I respect your beliefs,"

"Why can't you relate? Do you not believe in our lord and savior?"

You shook your head 'no', earning an audible gasp from Izuku.

"What? W-why not?"

You began to feel annoyed by the way he was talking. "Izuku, don't you ever have temptations?" you questioned, trying to explain how you feel.

Izuku began to look off to the side. "We aren't supposed to..."

"Well! We are human! We can't help how we feel," you interrupted, laughing.

Izuku cocked his eyebrow. "I never follow my temptations. They must be kept away, giving into them is a sin,"

You rolled your eyes at the word 'sin'. It rolled off his tongue so smoothly, you were buzzed from the party earlier so maybe that's why you decided to say...

"Have you ever sinned?"

Izuku looked at you, his mouth hung agape. You bet he never expected you to ask him such a personal question.

"O-of course not!" he said, furrowing his eyebrows. He seemed offended by the question.

You hummed to yourself, leaning close to the poor boy's face. Suddenly, you found yourself straddling his empty lap. He didn't dare touch or look at you, he was easily embarrassed. His face was a beet red hue. His hands nor face paid attention to the temptation of your body.

"You've never..." you thought. Smirking, you leaned into his ear, "Touched yourself?" you finished. Your breath was close against his neck, making him shiver underneath you.

Izuku's heart beat felt rapid. He had no words, seemingly. Taking a deep breath, he shook his head. He did not partake in such sinful acts.

You almost laughed in his face thinking he was joking. But on further inspection, he seemed dead serious. This made you excited. You loved sleeping with virgins. They always had the whiniest moans and the warmest cum. You loved taking advantage of them, making sure to make them feel pathetic.

Your hand crept up to his face, grabbing his cheek. "Do you want me to show you how to touch yourself, Izuku?" you asked, as innocently as you could.

And with that, you felt something hard underneath you, this boy had gotten a boner, a boner that you wanted to get rid of.

"I...I shouldn't," Izuku mumbled, feeling as if he were spinning.

Your lips found their way on his neck, sucking on his soft skin softly. He let out a whimper, his whimper made you want to go insane. But! You know you should take it slow, it is his first time after all.

"Do you want me to touch you?" you asked, feeling your core already to start to burn.

"N..N..."

"It's a sin to lie, isn't it?" you teased, not really knowing if it was a sin or not.

"Touch me,"

With that being said, you smashed your lips against his. Izuku let you kiss him. But what got him more interested was when you slipped your tongue into his mouth. He seemed like a natural to you. Your tongues were in sync, making you want him even more.

After releasing your kiss to breathe in some air, you looked into his eyes. Lust. He was being lustful in this moment with you. It made you eager to ruin him.

"What do you want me to do to you?" you asked, pushing his back on to the bed. He laid under you as you sucked on his skin, making sure to leave purple marks. They way he crumbled under your touch felt so sexy to you.

"D...Do w-whatever you want to me," he moaned, finally having the courage to put his hands on your waist. They ran up and down your hips. grinding your body slightly on his hard clothed cock.

You smiled, removing your clothes, only having a bra and panties on, this would be his first time seeing a woman naked. You felt excited knowing that. You helped Izuku get him own clothes off, leaving him in his boxers. The tent built up in them almost had you drooling at the sight.

He couldn't look you in the eyes, he stared at the ground, holding his cheeks to relieve them as they were burning. You were stood up, Izuku's legs draped over the bedside, he was anticipating for more.

Getting on your knees, you made sure Izuku kept his eyes directly on you.

"I'm going to show you how to please yourself, kay?" you said, pecking his lips.

"H-ow do I do that...?" he asked, almost stuttering.

Instead of explaining, you grabbed his hand. You wanted to tease him before touching him. You let your warm tongue touch the pads of his finger tips. You noticed his dick twitch due to your action. You began to suck softly and slowly, Izuku was in a trance, wishing it were his cock instead.

"Let me see it now, Zuku,"

Izuku felt his blush come back to him, he must've felt too embarrassed to pull out his cock, he kept stuttering and rambling on and on. You rolled your eyes, playfully, finding your own hands to be the one to reveal his dick. His dick was long and thick, you've never seen such a perfect one.

He whined as your soft hands started pumping his dick slowly.

"This is how to please yourself, give me your hand," you ordered.

Without any thought Izuku gave you his hand. You wrapped his own hand around his dick, making him pump it himself.

"Does that feel good baby?" you asked, ready to make him feel even more relieved.

"Y-yes," he moaned.

You grazed your thumb over the tip making him feel jolts of pleasure.

After watching him pump his cock in front of you a few times, you were ready to wrap your lips around his length. You wanted him to cry out your name- No- You needed him to cry out your name.

You took off Izuku's hand from his own length, giving him your full attention.

"Keep your eyes on me Izuku," you said, in a serious tone.

He nodded his head, fast.

You stuck out your tongue to lick the tip of his dick. He tossed his head back, making you feel more heated. In an instant, you took his whole tip in your mouth, sucking on it soft and slow. He groaned, trying to stop the urge to grab your hair. You noticed his hand hovering over your head, was he trying to be respectful? You rolled your eyes, grabbing his hand and placing it in your own hair.

"You can pull my hair baby, don't be shy,"

Izuku blushed at your words but found his fingers gripping right where your scalp is. You loved it, he's learning so easily.

Your wet tongue ran up and down his shaft, earning moans and groans from Izuku. He started to gain more confidence, moving your head down further. He wanted you to take him fully but he was too shy to say.

After a few minutes of pants, moaning, and suckling noises, you felt Izuku get more tense and sloppy as he moved your head. He was close to cumming.

"This... Feels so good," he moaned, his hips rutting upwards on instinct.

"You're such a good boy, does the good boy wanna cum?" you asked, rubbing his dick in your hands. Both of your hands rubbed him in all the right ways.

"C-cum?" Izuku questioned.

Oh of course! He is a virgin, he doesn't know about these things. The cross around his neck was connected to his chest due to the sweat. You laughed in your head, knowing you're stealing one of God's little angels.

"You'll understand when it happens, for now, just lay back and let me make you feel good, hm?"

Izuku understood, laying back down, propping himself on his elbows to look at your face.

You continued to suck on him, anticipating to feel his warm cum on your face.

"W-wait!" Izuku shouted, a look on his face signified he was unfamiliar by the feeling.

You knew what this meant, you kept using your hands and tongue faster.

"A-ah no! Something... Ah~ No I think I'm going to-"

You took out his cock from your mouth, rubbing it up and down while he shot his hot cum on your face. He felt ecstasy.

"S-so good!" he praised, panting.

You licked up all of the cum you could off of his dick, making sure he watched. His face was red.

"That was too good," Izuku said, sitting upwards. He got up to grab his shirt off of the floor. You sighed, understanding he was ready to leave.

"What? Leaving too so-"

He wiped the cum off of your body, feeling embarrassed that you have his sperm all over your cute face. Your cheeks burned up, no one has taken care of you after doing something like that.

"S-sorry about that," he apologized, rubbing the back of his neck.

You gave him a smile, feeling an unfamiliar sensation deep down in your heart. "It's no problem," you said, taking a seat on the bed.

Izuku sat next to you.

"T-thanks for that... I've never done anything like that before," he sighed.

"You think we're done?" you giggled. Of course you weren't!

"Are we not?" Izuku asked, confused.

You shook your head, straddling Izuku's lap. This time instead of being so shy, he seemed less anxious, comfortable, and familiar. His hands gripped your waist, guiding your hips to grind against his dick, causing him to get hard once again.

"Let me ruin you Izuku," you whispered, kissing him passionately. He kissed you back, wanting everything from you. He needed you.

"Please y/n... Ruin me,"

All you could do was smile at his words, he was ready for you and only you.

You got off Izuku, slowly removing your panties. After removing them you sat back down on Izuku's lap.

"What are we doing next?" he asked, fiddling with his hands.

You honestly didn't need foreplay, you were ready for him. You were ready to ruin him, to make him connected to you by soul ties.

"Izuku, lay down," you demanded.

Izuku did exactly what you said, laying down right in the center of the bed, his body propped into the soft, silky pillows.

You crawled over to him like a hunter stalking its prey. You had no hesitation to pounce on him. You hovered yourself over his dick, wanting to see his facial expressions as you put it in. Though you weren't a fan of riding, you always were when it came to virgins.

Your eyes landed upon the cross around Izuku's neck. God can't help his poor soul now.

Slowly, you began to sink down on Izuku's cock.

"Warm... So good," he whispered.

Your gummy walls held onto his dick tightly. The lewd noises you were making were beyond comprehension.

"I can't... Too much," Izuku whined, closing his eyes, holding on to your hips.

"You can take it baby, so big and ready to fill me up," you said, finally pushing yourself on his dick fully.

He let out a moan.

You allowed him to get familiar with the sensation of your walls, not wanting him to cum so quickly.

You began to move yourself up and down, Izuku's hands attached to your hips as you rode him.

His dick filled you up, hitting all the right spots. You moaned, sinking down on his cock.

Moans and whimpers could be heard throughout the room. This feeling is one that you could never give up.

Over time you began to pick up the pace, Izuku was huffing and taking deep breaths as you sped up. He was so sensitive after you made him cum earlier, he wanted to try and make you feel good too, which is why it's taking everything in him not to cum right then and there.

"F-fuck Izuku~" you moaned, feeling the knot in your stomach ready to be released.

You felt yourself moving faster, wanting to chase your own orgasm.

"G-god! So good! I can't hold it in," Izuku whimpered.

You smirked at his words. "God can't help you Izuku," you said, slyly.

For some odd reason that turned Izuku on even more, rutting his hips upwards. He hugged your waist, slamming you down on his cock. You were surprised by his actions but didn't care, he was eager, it's his first time, of course he was.

You wrapped your arms around his shoulders, feeling your orgasm near closer and closer. You couldn't help your eyes rolling back, it all was too much!

His dick hit your favorite spot, earning loud moans.

"Right there Izuku~" you panted, almost sounding like you were whining.

Izuku understood, moving your hips faster. Fucking into you as much as he could, hitting your spot over and over, continuously.

"Gon-Gonna cum!" you cried, ready to become undone.

Izuku just couldn't contain himself, his dick went in as much as it could, his hot seed pumping inside of you. The warmth of his cum made you reach your climax.

You both panted for air. You got off of the boy, laying beside him. That fucking session was a pretty damn good one.

"Thank you Y/n. I've never felt so alive," Izuku said, turning to face you. He had a smile plastered on him. His smile made your heart flutter.

Your stamina was all used up, you could barely look him in his eyes. You were happy to be of assistance for him.

"You were such a good boy," you said, leaning into kiss him.

He grabbed your cheeks, kissing you until you fell asleep. He wanted to take such good care of you after you helped him out. He placed a cover on top of you, admiring your cute face.

"Asleep already?" Izuku asked.

You didn't hear a word he said, already fast to sleep. You were insanely worn out.

He giggled slightly, kissing the top of your forehead.

...

"Fucking idiot," he muttered, rolling his eyes and getting off of the bed in search for his boxers. "When Shoto said it'd be this easy... I didn't think he meant this easy," he commented, ripping off the cross necklace from his neck. He threw it somewhere in the room, not caring for things like 'God'.

Once he found his boxers, he walked over the the dresser, taking out his phone, hidden behind some perfumes, which was recording the whole scene between the two of you.

"Too damn easy," he smirked, checking the video quickly to see if it captured everything, and trust me, it did.

3 Missed calls from Ochako <3

Izuku scoffed at his notifications, dialing the missing call back. He didn't want to deal with her bullshit right now, he wanted to smoke a quick cigarette before having to be by her side all night. The phone number answered quickly.

"Where are you babe? You've been missing for awhile now," the girl said, sounding worried.

"I just needed some air, I'll meet up with you in a bit,"

"Okay honey, bye, I love you,"

"I love you too,"

-

[mintmatcha]

Inevitable Things: chapter three

aizawa x reader fic

cw: cisfem reader, no quirks, office au, miscommunications, slow burn, sexting, alcohol consumption. full tags available on AO3 (linked in masterlist)

previous chapter | masterlist | next chapter

Hizashi and his (real) wife are exactly the type of people that you want to notice you from across the room. While Hizashi is long and lean, Nemuri is all curves, with a delightfully heart shaped face and wide, thick thighs that you can’t stop yourself from looking at sometimes. Her dark hair is pressed into curls, as deep and as black as her lipstick.

“Do you want a taste?” Nemuri leans in, elbows tucked against her ribcage, pushing her chest up just a bit more. Her dress is sheer enough that you can catch a hint of nipple, dark and pearled up in the cold-

“Uh-?” You rip your eyes away. Two drinks in and you’re already ogling. You’d feel bad about it if the couple didn’t absolutely bask in the attention.

“Of my drink.” Nemuri says, like she knows what she's doing. “Taste my drink.”

“Leave the poor girl alone- Shouta has her all riled up.” Hizashi laughs, wrinkling his nose in delight as he watches the both of you. His cheeks are flushed with alcohol, glasses off kilter one way and smile tilted the opposite. The top five buttons of his business appropriate top are undone, meaning he’s also sporting a bit too much nipple for late afternoon. 

“I was just trying to see that pretty smile,” she pouts, with the almost unobtainable balance of sweet and sexy.  You’re not sure if she’s really this pretty, or if it's rose colored glasses, tinted by your own jealousy.

You take Nemuri's drink and tip it back, swallowing it faster than your brain can process the flavor. It's gin, maybe absinthe: you just know that it burns. Fighting through your gag reflex, you offer a quick grin, one much less wobbly than it was earlier. 

“Aw, there it is!”

Nemuri runs the city’s one and only ‘lifestyle club’: Midnight. From what you've heard, it's a very lux, beautiful venue, filled with torrid amounts of untold debauchery and countless swingers. Technically, the couple started it together- which, now that you’re thinking about it, says a lot about their relationship. They’re the type of couple that’s almost too similar: they're too much, too loud, too nice, too confident. 

 Most of your friends couldn’t leave work midday on a Thursday, so your ‘birthday bash’ is less exciting than Hizashi had originally planned. That’s fine; you didn’t need more than this.

“Are you feeling better?” Hizashi asks softly. The restaurant is quiet, with only a couple of other tables filled. The three of you had chosen a booth in the very back, hidden away from everyone else who wanted a quiet meal; the waiter seems grateful for that. He’s in the opposite corner, checking his phone and waiting for you to finish your drinks before heading back over. Drinking at 3 in the afternoon isn’t usually your style, but you think you deserve it today. It’s a hat trick: breaking up, turning thirty, and getting screamed at. Maybe a meteor will fall from the sky and really add insult to injury.

“No.” You slump into the booth and the room follows suit. “Aizawa's such an asshole.”

The couple gives you identical looks: tiled heads and pressed lips. Both of them are a bit older than you, 37 and 38, but most of the time you don’t feel the gap. Today, however, you do; you feel like a baby, sucking down fruity drinks while moping about. It’s incredibly childish, but you just can’t stop yourself. You want time to be sad.

“He doesn’t mean to be.” Hizashi starts. 

“But he is!” you whine. “I don’t know how you guys are even friends with him.”

“He's different outside of work.” Nemuri says. Shit-talking the man puts them into a strange position, you know that. They have all known each other since college; Aizawa had even gotten Hizashi his current position at the company. It’s strange to think that they are friendly-- let alone close- but you guess they’re both friendly with everyone.  “He's a real kitten in real life.”

You try and imagine the guy without a stick up his ass and can’t. What-- is he doing yoga and petting puppies in his free time? As if. All that blue light has rotted his brain.

“He's just crazy stressed. It makes him act like a bone head.” Hizashi  reasons with a shrug, forever unflappable. His own drink is almost empty, so he gestures for another. “I'm sure he'll apologize tomorrow.” 

The bartender is quick to bring you guys another round. He asks about food, which the couple is quick to order, insisting that everything is their treat. That’s probably a good thing; that half a latte you had for breakfast isn’t doing anything to absorb the alcohol in your system and your stomach is growling. In the meantime, you take the cherry out of your drink and chew on it. You’ll have to savor this drink, just to make sure you don’t get too drunk-

Nemuri leans in conspiratorially. “Was it at least kind of hot?”

“What?”

“Having Shouta scold you.”

What.

“What.”

Hot? Hot?

“What.” you repeat, stressing the vowel.

“He's a handsome guy!” she laughs, throwing her hair over her shoulder. “Deep voice, kind of domineering-- it didn't… turn you on a little bit?” 

“And you clearly have a thing for assholes-” Hizashi grins, then yelps, shooting his wife a glare. “Ouch, don't kick me!”

Nevermind. You take a long, long sip of your cocktail until your stomach and vision swirl. You need it.

“And he’s hotter than that idiot you were dating- ‘muri, stop kicking me.”

The only time Touya ever came to your work was for a Christmas party. He was very interested to learn that Hizashi and Nemuri's relationship was open and seemingly forgot that your relationship was, in fact, closed. It's been ages since you forgave him, but Mic still hasn’t moved on. 

“Stop saying dumb shit then.” She rolls her eyes, then returns her attention back to you. “He’s right though.”

“Touya is--”  Defending him is reflexive. It's not that Touya isn't attractive, it just happens to be in his own way. Maybe other people would see it if he smiled more or pulled out some piercings. Sure. you had never seen yourself with someone as grungy as him, but... “He’s handsome and kinda charming.”

The energy shifts. Hizashi practically leaps across the table, scooping your hands into his, eyes wide with horror.

“Please don’t tell me you’re taking him back,” he begs. Apparently, your face answers for you. because he draws back, horror drawn across his features. “No. No! You're better than this!”

That phrase hits you funny and you remember Aizawa told you the same thing. Better than this-- why does everyone decide that you need better? Why can’t you be okay with… just okay? Mediocrity fits you well. 

“Am I?” you say into the glass edge of your drink. 

“You're miles out of his league. You deserve someone with a full time job, and a savings, and who doesn't habitually cheat-”

“Hizashi, leave her alone.” Nemuri glances his way and he immediately complies, throwing his hands up in surrender. When she returns her attention to you, her expression is kinder. “Don’t do something you regret just because you’re sad. You just need to get back in the saddle and you'll feel way better.”

“Yeah, once you're back at work, things will smooth out,” Hizashi says.

“Work isn’t the saddle- a dick is the saddle,” she corrects. “You just need a crazy hook up.”

It’s not that you don’t like sex. You think it’s perfectly fine. You’re just not in love with it the same way these two are. The whole experience of it all is so exciting and wonderful in theory, but in practice? It’s more awkward moments than orgasms. It doesn’t help that Touya is the only person you’ve ever slept with, since he’s admittedly selfish in that department.

You realize you’ve been silent for a suspiciously long amount of time. “Oh, well, uh-” you try to come up with an excuse. “I dunno how to date-- I’ve been with Touya for years.” 

“Sex isn’t dating.” she insists. “It’s just-- mutual fun and understanding. What’s your type?”

“Dark hair, I guess.” You aren’t really sure. “Are you going to bring me to your club and set me up with someone?”

“No way.” She leans forward on to her elbows again. “It’s a bad environment for a beautiful girl who can't say no.”

You try to imagine yourself being hit on, maybe a man buying you a drink or inviting you on to his lap, and can’t bring yourself to say no. You heave a sigh. “Yeah, I guess you’re right.”

“See? You can’t even argue with me. Midnight is the major leagues-- start with the basics. Do you own a vibe?”

You glance over at Hizashi.

“Pretend I’m not here.”  He says, leaning back with a smirk.

“Uh-” You glance between the two, trying to decide how honest you should be. Laughter bubbles out of you that you can’t  quite control. “No?”

Both of them look aghast.

“Finish that drink and get your phone out.” Nemuri demands. “You’re buying yourself a birthday present.”

.

The rest of the night is a bit of a blur. There’s dinner and drinks and a stroll around town, the bits and blurs of laughter and conversation and the back of Hizashi’s car. By the time you’re dropped off at your apartment building, you’re wobbling on your heels and pleading for the world to stay still. Overindulging isn’t usually your speed, but it���s certainly fun.

 Your key barely makes it into your lock and you stumble in, laughing at the way your oven’s clock flashes at you. 8:00: in college you could have been out all night, but now you’re ready for bed before the good television shows come on.  

The bed is still made from this morning, sheets untouched and pillows unsquished.  

You don't want to sleep alone.

The bathroom calls your name. You're supposed to be washing your face, but you can't rip yourself away from your phone long enough to bother. 

You don't want to sleep alone.

Nemuri was right, you just need to get under someone and you'll feel better. You’re itching for it, needy for touch, desperate for the validation that love affords you. Midnight will be open soon and its only a train ride away, but you aren’t a member and Nemuri made it clear you wouldn’t be getting an exception. You could download a dating app and scroll, but the idea of a stranger entering your life and home feels wrong. It’d be easier to stay with something familiar… someone you know..

AVOID AT ALL COST sits at the top of your contacts, mocking you in all capital letters. Touya. The man who won’t even read your texts. At this point, crawling back to his is ugly and pathetic, but your drunk brain keeps looping back to the idea of sex and love and touch and-

You close your eyes for deniability, then click.

i wish you were here<-

iwnt you so bad right now<-

You cringe at the typo, regret sitting heavy in your belly. Read sits heavy at the corner of the screen, taunting you with your mistake-

Your drunk brain catches up. Read? He… read it? Typing bubbles appear, then disappear. Then, they pop up again, typing for an uncomfortably long time. Despite yourself, you get excited, rolling on the balls of your feet and bouncing. Touya is answering you. When you’re starved for affection, even the smallest bits feel like full meals, both saiating you and wetting your mouth for more.

->Are you sure you're texting the right person? 

->I thought you hated me.

You lean against your bathroom sink to steady your hands, giggling and twitting about. 

I wish i hated you lol <-

but i just want you so bad <-

You lean against the sink, watching the little "seen" pop up under your messages. When the typing bubbles don’t immediately appear, you send off another.

 id let you have me <-

 any way you want me <-

You almost stop there, but then you catch your own eye in the mirror. Your outfit is a bit disheveled, your makeup is more than a bit smeared, but you look… good. Just fucked and ready for more. Your dress isn’t low cut enough to be inappropriate for work, but you manage to shimmy it lower, hem pressed just below the curve the lacy edge of your bra. It’s nothing new to him, but it still feels dirty, illicit enough to steal your breath away.

The response is instant.

->God. How are you so…

->Don't tease me if you don't mean it. 

Oh, you’ll tease him alright. You’re going to tempt this man away from wherever he is and back into your bed. You pull your skirt up this time, hiking it all of the way up your thighs until just a hint of your skin toned undies are on display. With the camera just slightly out of focus, it really looks like you've shown him a sliver of cunt.

->Fuck. 

->You're right. I want you. 

->I’ve always wanted you. 

You giddily skip to your room, tossing yourself on your bed. You should really shower first, but your body is hot and primed; your hand is already sliding down, the heel of your palm grinding against your needy core.  You need something to touch you, you need the friction of someone else. There’s a vibrator in your amazon cart, but you can’t wait for 2 day shipping.

For now, the edge of a pillow will have to do. You bunch it below you and rock your hips, searching for that perfect angle that will-

More texts come through.

->I've always thought about fucking you against your desk after everyone else has left. Those stupid slippers over my shoulders. Your lips on mine.

-> I know you taste sweet. All over.

A shiver turns through you. Yes, you need to be tasted, you need his teeth in your neck and his spit on your tits-

are you jacking off right now? <-

There’s a gap. Maybe you've pressed too far.

->Yes. 

I wish my hands were as soft as yours.

 lemme see <-

You expect the messages to dry up there. Touya likes the chase, not the follow through. You put your phone down and shift your weight more, trying to focus on rolling your hips just right. A pressure is building inside you, one that’s warm and fuzzy and rolling into your chest and down into your cunt. Your eyes close and you chase that high.

A message comes through.

A video message.

You scramble to press play, hips rolling against your pillow on their own, searching for friction. 

A barely there moan hits you first.

The video is dark and grainy, but you can make out the shape of his cock, heavy against his thick thigh. His pubes have grown out, a dark patch of hair that trails up his soft stomach and out of frame. You can see every breath he pulls, stomach constricting and expanding. The hand that isn't holding the camera is looped around the base of his cock, squeezing gently before slowly stroking the length. His fingers are slick with lube or precum and they glide over his length, earning you another growl of a moan.

Chills run through your body. Fuck. Holy fuck. He must really miss you. He's throbbing for you and you swear he's bigger than ever. It must be the angle and your drunk mind, but he looks huge.

never shave ever again ok I love how manly it looks <-

and fuck your voice is so hot I almost came from that alone <-

->Are you touching yourself?

yes<-

->Show me.

Embarrassment suddenly hits you. Touya always told you that men were visual creatures and rutting against a pillow like an animal isn’t the ‘porn pretty’ pictures he expects. Usually, you’d comply and pose how you know he likes it, but the room is off kilter and your body is heavy. Besides, Nemuri and Hizashi were right-- an orgasm would fix you. You need to keep going right now or else your stomach’s going to cramp.

i’m embarrassed <-

It’s mostly the truth. You would understand if he stopped texting you after that, but a response comes quickly. 

That’s okay. <-

Tell me about it? <-

Your heart thumps. Then, again. That shouldn’t be hot. 

->i'm humping my pillow and wishing it was you

My leg or my cock? <-

Fuck. When did he get good at this?

->whatever you'll give me

Ride my thigh and we'll see what you deserve.<-

God, it's just words, but you feel electric. When did he get good at this? The heat in your core feels like it's going to consume your whole body and you can't help but to continue to stroke it; you squeeze your thighs and tilt your hips over and over again, thinking about that wide thigh and his manly, big hands. God, you should be texting back, but you're just-- just--

Your orgasm hits you way quicker than usual. It's one that hits you all at once, straightening your back and stealing your breath and just tickling every inch of your core. It's all consuming and followed by the creamy feeling bliss that you so desperately needed. As you  flop forward and sink into your mattress, sleep nipping at your heels, you gather yourself enough to send one final picture.

You collect your cum in your fingers and scissor them back and forth, letting the wetness web in between. When you lift your hand, it catches in the overhead light, clear and lovely and all for him. The photo you take is a bit out of focus, exhaustion settling into your bones, but it’s very clear when you’re showing.

-> next time you make me cum ebtter be in person

-

The next morning you wake up to a pounding headache and fuzzy teeth, but your body feels good. There’s something looser, lighter, inside you, like you’ve relaxed for the first time in forever.  You can’t even bring yourself to care that your phone is dead or that you’re running a bit late to work. It’s awful to admit, but Nemuri was right- an orgasm really did fix you. Maybe that’s why the two of them are always so chipper; they’re definitely fucking like rabbits.

You plug in your phone and get ready for the day. Three ibuprofen and a shower mostly fix your headache and a very thorough brushing fixes everything else. Your toothbrush still sits next to Touya’s, seemingly the only thing in the apartment he forgot to take, but today that doesn’t fill you with dread. Things, finally, are good again. Pretty words have soothed all of your wounds and you’re just waiting for him to come back home to you.

It’s all you can think about as you get dressed. You slip into something black-- Touya’s favorite-- and put on those special red heels again, even though your instep is rubbed raw.

You're almost out the door when you remember your phone. You scramble back to your bedroom and start it up as you head out the door. The screen boots up and messages start inching their way in. A couple from friends, apps, and-

Hm. That’s. 

A name that you don’t expect pops up. Aizawa Shouta sits at the top of your direct messages, five messages sent through. Yesterday, you’d probably think you were losing your job or the world was ending, but today you can take it in stride. Hizashi was right; the man is already trying to apologize! You open the message and smugly prepare for the groveling-

-> I bet you looked so pretty when you came.

[exhaslo]

hey can I request a shy!miguel like where he stutter at reader tease. (College Au,Miguel is in the popular group but doesn’t know sex as much as reader or doesn’t know anything at all.and reader who is an ‘everyone know person’ in school )

sub/(dom???)shy!miguel x dom/tease!fem!reader. in this case can reader be a teased that teach Miguel about sex ? tease him for being hard for the easiest thing such as pornography moan, tease him for wacthing porn? Which makes him more difficult for him to stop stutter sometimes.(and that with only with her 🤭) but of course reader is a sweetie heart and teaches him one or two (an handjob or blowjob) about to masturbating which get him even more hard then he is. 🤭 (and Miguel a secret a Virgin 😌😍 a whiny horny one)

Awe, so cute! Okay, I hope I can get this one done right! Let's give it a go~

Warning: Minors DNI, semi-smut, jk smut, cockwarming, teasing, porn watching, blow job, handjob

---------------------------------------------------------------------------

It all just happened to fast. You had enrolled in college and somehow ended just tutoring some people here and there, until you suddenly became the, "The Go To". Everyone went to you for any kind of information, whether or not you knew the topic.

It could be about college programs, classes, cooking, sewing, anything. Everyone went to you for anything. Thankfully, you studied a lot and watched plenty of videos. But nothing could have prepared you for your newest question.

"S-Sorry to bother you," Miguel started off.

Your jaw nearly dropped the moment you opened your dorm room to the giant. Miguel was known as the hottest guy in school. He was so quiet and mysterious that every girl on campus wanted to know him. So, the fact that he was standing in front of your door, stuttering, was coming as a big surprise to you.

"I...I hope this isn't out of your...range." He looked around, "I-I heard that...that you knew everything." His voice got lower. Again, your jaw nearly dropped,

"I mean, I can totally try and answer whatever questions you got. Come in, come in."

Your mind was racing. Miguel O'Hara was in your dorm room. Thank the lords that you had no roommate. You had alone time with the hottest guy in school!

"What...What can you t-tell me about...s-sex?"

YOUWEREREADYTODROPYOURPANTIES-

"Ah, um, just like in general or-?" You watched his body language.

You furrowed your brows slightly as you watched Miguel try to come up with a sentence. Was he shy? You felt yourself nearly take a step back. The man of everyone's dreams was shy and inexperienced with sex. Well, so were you. All you did was watch porn.

"General." Miguel whispered.

"Well, I think my best friend the porn websites can do a much, much better job at that. Have you watched porn?"

God, this was so embarassing.

"N-No."

God, he was so innocent.

"Alright, um, let me give you a list. Or how about I-" You were clearly in the wrong headspace as you opened your laptop and went to your favorite porn site, "Anything in particular you're interested in watching?"

"Ah-"

Miguel could feel his heart rise to this throat. He watched as your eyes observed him. This was not something he was prepared for. Not with you especially. Miguel had a crush on you since you shared a class last semester. He knew that you knew everything, but it took him a lot of courage to come to you with this.

And now, he was getting hard by just seeing boobs on your laptop and you staring at his bulge. This was a huge mistake!

"I-I'm s-sorry!" He panicked. You immediately stopped him,

"You can't leave like that."

Lord, you really were getting in over your head. The moment you saw Miguel's erection, you felt your own heart race. You knew that he was not going to make the first move, so you had to play the bigger person. He came to you with questions!

"It's normal. Well, sort of." You sat him down, holding his shoulders, "It's kind of cute how easy you got hard. You need to work on that."

"H-How?"

"Watch some porn. Get used to the fake moans and masterbate."

"I...I don't really-"

Oh my god, this man was just being given to you. You swore you had to wipe a tear from your eyes as you tainted this pure soul.

"I, um, I'm not...This will be a first, but I've seen this done...in videos." You whispered the last part and undid his pants, "I'm going to show you how to touch yourself."

"(Y-Y/n)!" Miguel gasped as his dick sprung out. You're jaw nearly dropped at his size,

"All you did was see some boobs," You tried to tease him.

"S-S-Sorry," His stuttering got worse.

Your cheeks were flushed as your fingers trailed his dick. You could feel Miguel shudder from your touch. This was just a learning lesson. Grabbing his dick, you started to stroke his massive cock. His grunts and moans were so loud.

"You get hard so easy. I wonder, do I have to moan to make you cum?" You said with a smile.

Miguel shuddered against your touch as your thumb rolled against his tip. Pre-cum already starting to spill. You hummed as you decided to tease him some more. Asking if he never touched himself before, if being touched like this was making him horny.

"Now, this is a private lesson, okay? I don't want anyone knowing about this." You told him, standing up and pumping his dick faster.

"Y-Yes. I-I-I u-understand," Miguel moaned as he cam against your hand. He panted heavily as you stared at the massive amount of cum he spilled,

"S-So...I-I hope this helped. Um...W-Watch some porn."

You felt your heart race as you went to wash your hands. You were hot and horny. Once you cleaned your hand, you watched Miguel clean up the mess he made. He apologized to you repeatedly and asked if he could come by again.

"Yes."

You folded too quick.

---------

"Awe, still getting hard by just watching porn? You're so sensitive," You teased as you stroked Miguel's dick.

It had been a week and Miguel stopped by a few times with more questions. You answered them, while demonstrating some stuff. You were getting too into this. If this was a game Miguel was playing, then he was winning. Although, you knew he wasn't by his tone.

"C-Can't h-help it. E-Especially w-when I-I'm with y-you." Miguel stuttered as he flung his head back. Your eyes widen,

"Wait, you're only this hard...because of me?"

"Y-Yes!" Miguel groaned as he bulked his hips into your hand.

Your jaw nearly dropped at his confession. Stopping your hand, you got on your knees and fixed your hair. You were going to show Miguel everything about sex. Licking his tip, you hummed as you attempted to take his large dick in your mouth.

"(Y-Y/N)?!" Miguel groaned loudly.

Miguel groaned as the warmth of your mouth engulfed the tip of his dick. Your tongue was swirling around his shaft, making him shiver in delight. Miguel shuddered as he held your head, moaning as you kept sucking him off. This felt amazing.

Gripping your head, Miguel moaned loudly as he cam into your mouth. He panted softly as he watched you pull away, coughing. Your glossy eyes glanced up into his,

"I guess we're both sloppy at this," You wiped your mouth. Miguel helped you, blushing madly,

"You're a v-virgin too?" He asked. You slowly nodded and stood up, taking your pants off,

"I watch a lot of porn. Shall I show you what we do next?"

"I-I think I-I know," Miguel stuttered as he brought you close to him.

You watched him hesitate. It was so cute. Miguel slowly brought you against his lap and started to rub his cock against your folds. His hot breathe was against your neck as he slowly entered a finger into your drenched hole.

"I-Is it o-okay if...if...I-I kiss you?" Miguel asked.

"Aweeee, you're so sweet," You cooed before nodding.

You shared a passionate kiss with Miguel as you melted under his touch. He had no idea what he was doing, but damn his fingers were big. You clenthced against his finger, to which he pulled out and started to slid his cock inside you.

God, he was big.

You moaned loudly as Miguel stretched your pussy out. You leaned against him, gasping lowly as you felt him get harder to each of your moans. This boy was going to wreck you.

"M-Miguel, before you move...Just...Let us stay like this for a moment," You begged, needing to adjust to his size. Miguel held your waist gently,

"S-Sorry."

"No need. I-I'm teaching you here," You muffled a moan, your pussy squeezing his cock as you sat still. You whimpered as you felt him twitch, "A-Are you about to c-cum from me moaning alone? Haha,"

"You're just...just so beautiful," Miguel whispered, panting softly as he tried to restrain himself.

"H-How long...mhm...have you liked me?" You asked, slowly getting used to his dick making itself at home inside you.

"S-Since last s-semester." Miguel stuttered as he felt you squeeze him, "(Y-Y/N), I-I-"

"Let me..."

You muffled a moan as you slowly started to move. The pain faded and all you felt was pleasure. His dick fit so well inside you as you started to ride Miguel. His tip kissing your cervix each time you bounced, causing you to cry out.

Miguel held your hips, moaning into your chest as he felt himself unload inside you. You didn't even care. You were feeling so good at the moment. Trying to chase your own high, you moaned loudly as you started to bounce against his dick faster.

Miguel grunted as he tried to help, thrusting his hips into you. Your eyes nearly rolled back as you cam on the spot. Miguel watched as you slumped against him, both of your breathing heavily.

"(Y-Y/N), C-Can....can we keep m-meeting? I-I originally...wanted t-to ask you out...b-but...I-"

"Yes," You whispered, resting comfortably on him, "These will be your private lessons."

--------------------------------------------------------------------------

Waaaah, I hope I did okay! Hope you enjoyed it!!!

[priceoftheduchess]

oh, father! where art thou?

part four.

highschool au, long lost lovers, enemies to lovers if you squint, grumpy and sunshine-esque dynamics (eventually), simon riley & fem!reader.

cw) angst, use of 2nd person, allusions/vague depictions to intimacy eventually, drinking eventually, breakdowns, motherhood, simon riley is father, un-canon lore! all of it eventually, MILITARY INACCURACIES SORRY SUE ME also not proofread!!! :U

a/n: guys!!! i have 100 likes on this account already 🥹 i want to kiss you all! also peep the hamilton reference ;P (sorry listening to “the world was wide enough” rn LOLL)

a/n 2: THIS IS SO FECKIN SHORT IM SORRY luvvies i try my best omggg !! also i might try to start writing some more intimate scenes ! if that’s something you’d all want! i’ve never written anything super explicit so ! tips are appreciated (no pun intended)

to my favourites! @girl-lostconnection @alkalineapparition and everyone else!

a/n 3: (i can’t shut the fuck up) if you want to be on my tag list comment on this post / my masterlist / send me a message! okay sorry bye enjoy

previous part

— dianna

It has been nearly three months since you’ve seen Simon. Boot camp has been nothing short of Hell, he’s told you in his letters. But he also tells you he’s happy. That the busyness makes him forget about his family. Or the lack thereof. That the working out makes him feel human again, and he loves the physical labor. Loves feeling needed.

And you write back that you love him. And that you can’t wait to see him again.

But the tap out is today. You’re bouncing on your feet getting ready, dressed in the sweetest sundress you own, taming your waves and beating your face. You’re a vision by the time you’re done and you nearly fall down the stairs from excitement. Imagine that.

“Sorry babe! Can’t come get you! In the hospital! Catch a ride! :,)” Ludicrous.

You make it to your car by some miracle and you’re at awe at the English scenery, and how it swishes by in an instant. Old buildings lining the busy streets, and historical landmarks on each corner. Such a vibrant city, Manchester. You can’t wait for Simon to be reminded of all of it.

You drive an hour or so out of the city, to a base secluded in on open field. You’ve never been to this part of England, despite living your life here. You park your car among others. Among mothers, fathers, sisters, brothers, cousins, aunts, uncles, and grandparents. You realize now, that even if Simon makes this a permanent thing, you will not be an island unto yourself.

This thought comforts you as you walk, guided by signs and fancy military higher-ups. You see a field of men, dressed nearly the same despite some missing hats and some donning a jacket. A man finishes making a speech that has no significance to you, and you search the sea of men for Simon.

Searching excitedly for him, you bump into a man who dwarfs you. He is considerably large, his shirt fighting for its life. You scramble to apologize, looking up at him to realize he’s wearing. . . a plain black balaclava? The bridge of his nose is visible between his eyes, but everything else is simply a shadow.

But you’ve seen these eyes before. These eyes have undressed you, and these eyes have watched you walk from your final lesson to the parking lot. These eyes watched you graduate secondary school.

Is this Simon?

Who is this? It can’t be him.

The man takes off the balaclava before your mental battle is over and shoves it into his back pocket, wrapping a strong arm around your shoulders before kissing you sloppily — not giving you a moment to register the face under the fabric.

You pull away, your hand flying to pull your neckline above your cleavage again and you apologize.

“You have got the wrong girl, I can assure you! My boyfriend is around here somewhere. Maybe you know him? Simon?” And the man chuckles gruffly, forcing you to look at him.

“I know him well, dove,” he whispers softly, kissing your forehead. Millions of questions rush through your mind.

When did Simon get so strong?

What’s with the balaclava?

There is no time for you to ask for any answers before a man walks over, an ignorant saunter in his hips and a grin larger than life itself plastered on his face.

“This your bird, Ghost?” The man chuckles softly, patting your boyfriend’s back. He is so chipper and Scottish enough to almost make his words incoherent.

Ghost? What the hell happened while he was away from you?

“She’s my girlfriend, Johnny. Not just a bird,”

“Aye, my fault. Nice to meet you.” The man — Johnny — winks at you and shows himself off somewhere else.

“I’ll explain everythin’ later,” Simon says, as if he can read your thoughts. He follows you to the car, and the ride is silent.

So is dinner.

So is aftercare.

There are never answers. The balaclava sits on his desk, teasing you. Daring you to press the issue. But you never can. You wake up next to Simon for the duration of him being home, but you’re unsure who it is you’re truly waking up besides. Who has killed Simon and left this man in his space? In your bed? In your shower? Who has killed Simon and left this man to fuck you?

You feel horrible, you do. But, it’s. . . he’s quieter. Curter with you. This is when you decide to press the issue.

You decide while he’s nose-deep in your tits is best. Licking and biting like a man starved, getting his friction from the sheet.

“What’s with the mask?”

He audibly groans, negatively, and sits up. “Good timin’,” he snarks and goes to change into some new sweatpants. “Nothin’ ‘bout it, luv. Just don’t want all those people seein’ my face. I ‘on’t know. Didn’t figure it’d be an issue.” He explains, almost bored. “Don’t know these people. Don’t tell ‘em my name.”

“An’ you never thought to mention this’a me?” You’re not sure why you’re so irritated about this. Maybe because Simon has changed so much, so quickly. The muscle you don’t mind. But it’s everything else. The anonymity. The curtness. You know what happens from here, and it causes your eyes to sting. You know that one day, Simon will go from curt to silent. He will lose everything that brought you to him, and he will be a shell of himself. War is not kind. It is not gentle. It tears and destroys all in its path. War is not about what is right, it is who is left when all is said and done. And you’ve started crying.

“You’re different, Simon. You are short with me now. These is a different air about you. You don’t even wear the same cologne! You haven’t even unpacked your duffel, ‘ike you’re ready’a go back already! You’re still hiding things from me! Why are ya doin’ that?!” You’re ready to keep screaming but he cuts you off by shoving your face in his pecs. It’s not so bad here.

“Stop.” He orders. Already barking like orders like he’s some kind of Lieutenant. Oh, God, Lieutenant Riley? Could you imagine? You hope he lives to make it that far. “I understand why y’re upset, luv. Y’re scared of change, and of my change, but we weren’t goin’a be those same, timid fuckin’ secondary kids forev’a, yeah? Hell, y’ve changed ‘fore I did. Y’re gorgeous, and y’re a spitfire, luv. Got a sharp tongue now. I’m sorry if’ya think I’ve been short wit’ ya. And I’m not hidin’ nothin’ from you. I jus’ like my privacy, yeah? Don’t know those men, yeah? N’ I’m sorry that me losin’ the cologne is botherin’ ya, but it was from my Dad, luvvie. Couldn’t keep holdin’ on’na it.” He explains, and you feel a bit silly now. “We were bound’a change, luv.” He shrugs, kissing your head. “How can I make it easier for ya?” He asks, and your heart melts. You know now that you only have one condition.

“If you can just stay alive, that would be enough.” You plead, big ol’ doe eyes and batting eyelashes helping your case tenfold.

“I’ll fight for you, my luv. No one else can protect you like I can,” he says and you snort. So cocky, so quickly. You give him that luxury.

“Any other conditions, luv?” He asks, chuckling gruffly at your snort.

“I bought some new rubbers in preparation for today. Yes, there are many’a ways you can make this easier,” you wink. You’re stumbling into bed so quickly that you forget the rubber that started this to begin with.

Oh, what’s one round without it?

[diorsluv]

casual , part 11

“ but we’re ”

series m. list previous chapter next chapter

( socialmedia!au )

yourusername

liked by luca.fantilli, rutgermcgroarty, and 111,103 others

yourusername ur favs are back 😈😈

tagged: luca.fantilli, rutgermcgroarty, markestapa, edwards.73, vivianliu

view all comments

username10 aww this is my fav type of post

username1 BUBBLES

→ vivianliu my fav powerpuff girl 🫧

→ yourusername buttercup 4EVAAAA

_alexturcotte 1/3 of these pics have some sort of suffocation going on… are you guys okay

→ yourusername it’s only 2 pics

→ _alexturcotte out of 6

→ yourusername turcs stop mathing please

→ _alexturcotte whats 9+10

→ colecaufield OH OH I KNOW THIS ONE

→ trevorzegras 21!!!!!!

username46 wheres my girl vivi 😔😔

→ yourusername shoe pic!

username21 the chaos is so endearing

_quinnhughes i thought u said vivian wasn’t going with u guys

→ yourusername SHE WENT ON A DATE 😏😏😏

→ yourusername but she didn’t tell us where it was so we went to subway and her big back was there w her pookie

→ jackhughes first date at subway 😬

→ vivianliu hey no it was our SECOND date

→ _quinnhughes second date at subway 😬😬

→ yourusername quinny dont act like u could do any better 💀

→ _quinnhughes i could

→ vivianliu oh 🥴🥴

→ yourusername EW

trevorzegras you need to invite me

→ yourusername no

→ trevorzegras why

→ yourusername ur icky 🤢🤢

→ trevorzegras 😒

username39 when do i get a friend group like this 😕

→ username14 have three hot, talented, very social brothers in the nhl with two that went to umich

markestapa ngl that card game was fire

→ yourusername thats what she said?? 😭

→ _quinnhughes that’s not how the joke works stupid

→ yourusername its the name of the game dummy

→ _quinnhughes oh

→ markestapa LMFAO

luca.fantilli we never hang out anymore 😔

→ yourusername YES WE DO

→ rutgermcgroarty luca’s right we never see u in the light of day

→ yourusername i’m at urs more than i’m at my own apartment guys

→ luca.fantilli u dont give us attention

→ yourusername 🫤🫤

→ luca.fantilli UR ALWAYS W UR DAMN BoyfRiEnD

→ rutgermcgroarty REAL WE WERE THE BOY FRIENDS BEFORE YOU GOT YOUR BOYFRIEND

→ yourusername you’re both so needyyy 🙄

rutgermcgroarty you have no good photos of me do you…

→ yourusername I DO

→ rutgermcgroarty prove it

→ yourusername no can do!!

adamfantilli the shoe game is fire

→ yourusername 🔥🔥🔥

→ adamfantilli 🥶🥶🥶

→ luca.fantilli 😮‍💨😮‍💨😮‍💨

→ rutgermcgroarty 🥱🥱🥱

→ dylanduke25 😴😴😴

username71 it’s so cute how ur always together

edwards.73 stop teaming up with rut when we play card games

→ yourusername but you and i always compete against each other

→ yourusername it’s like.. our thing 😟

→ edwards.73 well maybe i wanna change our thing

→ luca.fantilli not possible bro u can’t change a “thing”

username93 luca, rut n mark r dressed up as powerpuff girls like TELL ME IM WRONG

lhughes_06 i don’t like this horsing around mess

→ yourusername stop speaking like an old man for the love of god you’re TWENTY.

→ lhughes_06 respect your elders

→ yourusername oh lukey it’s funny that you think i would

mackie.samo i shouldn’t have left i miss you

→ yourusername AW MACK STOP

→ yourusername we miss you too ☹️

rutgermcgroarty

liked by colecaufield, yourusername, and 100,004 others

rutgermcgroarty its national best friend day look its my best friend

tagged: yourusername

view all comments

yourusername it’s not national best friend day 😑

→ rutgermcgroarty then its my national best friend day

→ yourusername we live in the same country. two blocks away from each other.

→ rutgermcgroarty its an appreciation post 😕

→ yourusername rut sweetie i know u appreciate me u tell me every day

→ rutgermcgroarty NO I DONT

→ yourusername okay you show me every day

→ rutgermcgroarty WHY WONT U LET ME APPRECIATE U

→ yourusername p sure the boyfriend’s gonna get mad 😖😖😖😖😖😖

→ rutgermcgroarty whats stopping him from posting an appreciation post

adamfantilli ok whats the likelihood of him actually posting an appreciation post LMFAOO

→ rutgermcgroarty 0.0001%

username29 ooooo the bf’s getting called out

username27 AWW THE CREEPER HATS

username18 minecraft besties so aesthetic

→ yourusername girl he’s horrible he built an obsidian dick in my survival house

→ username6 oh……..

→ username30 😧

markestapa the way she’s barely at your shoulders LMAOOO

→ yourusername HEY NO I WAS CROUCHING

→ rutgermcgroarty stop trying to save face we know how tall you are

→ yourusername no one online knows my height they’ll never know if i’m lying or not 🤨🤨

→ mackie.samo you’re actually 7’6 yourusername

→ dylanduke25 or maybe she’s 4’6 💀

username14 guys what if the bf posts her but it isn’t ethan

→ username68 i’d cry

luca.fantilli best friends but u dont even have pics of her 🙄

→ rutgermcgroarty real best friends got no pics of each other 😔😔

→ luca.fantilli i have pics of u???

→ rutgermcgroarty but we’re men

→ yourusername isnt it supposed to be the other way around??

edwards.73 ik what ur tryna do

→ rutgermcgroarty do u tho?

_alexturcotte deliberate beef (?)

→ rutgermcgroarty perchance.

→ markestapa you can’t just say perchance.

→ mackie.samo you can’t just say perchance!

→ dylanduke25 YOU CAN’T JUST SAY PERCHANCE.

→ adamfantilli YOU CAN’T JUST SAY PERCHANCE!

→ luca.fantilli YOU 🫵 CAN’T ❌ JUST 😓 SAY 🗣️ PERCHANCE 🤷‍♂️

→ yourusername god what is this nonsense

lhughes_06 mhm 🤨

→ rutgermcgroarty i thought u supported my aspirations

→ lhughes_06 mhmm 🤨🤨

username45 are u trying to make ethan jealous

username89 one day they’re gonna get into an actual fist fight

next chapter notes ) so… i was going back over old chapters of feather and i realized they used to be SO short??? like why did i suddenly start making everything longer but for the sake of the plot and my sanity i’m ACTUALLY going to be reverting to my old ways this time (not lying!!!!) and it’ll be easier for me to get chapters out 😭

tags: @dancerbailey3 @hughesfein @loveforaugust @alwaysclassyeagle @love4ldr @inhoodmood @bunting58 @crazycat-ladys-blog @smoooore @bunbunbl0gs @lilasianmeat

[red-ropes-of-avalon]

Sukuna is the kinda guy who demands you get the proper amount of respect and will fight for you if it's not given. Absolutely nobody gets away with taking anything that's yours and claiming it as their own- because what's yours is also his.

Modern AU Blurb:

You were always rather unfortunate with lab partners when it was up to luck of the draw. Being a woman in STEM was never labeled as easy, and while your beloved boyfriend was as helpful as possible he couldn't take that burden away. Being a business major meant he knew all the excel tips and tricks, so he helped when he could. While you had never foreseen dating your roommate's older brother, it was an interesting dynamic. Anything you accomplished brought him pride, for your achievements were his too.

Finals week in your room was hectic- your direct roommate Nobara had her interior design papers everywhere. Some pinned on the wall, others strewed all over the floor. Your own Biochem notes sprawled all over a calendar whiteboard. Megumi and Yuji's room was a mess on only one side- Megumi's sources for an English paper written neatly on the whiteboard with checks next to the ones he has cited from, while Yuji's side generally always looked like a bomb had been dropped but now with added notes sprawled around. You were sprawled on the floor writing out an assignment for your Biochem lecture while Nobara sat at her desk above you.

Your email pinged- an email from your lab partner. You inwardly groaned not wanting Nobara to pick up on your distress. He had been emailing you all day for the final project that you'd be presenting tomorrow. The problem though was you had found out he had been using your excel file for the whole semester. All of the hours trying to bullshit excel into working, and all of Sukuna's help had been being used by him. Normally this wouldn't bother you but he was using it and claiming it to be his own work- taking all of the credit for your hard work. You flipped your phone down and turned your notifications off trying to focus on the paper you had to read.

You didn't even realize how many hours you had been working on this paper until Yuji was standing in the doorway. "Yo Y/N are you ok?" Looking up at Yuji you tilted your head slightly, confused why he was asking. "Sukuna's been texting you and you haven't responded. He's calling me and yelling at me." Your eyes widened, how long had you been laying here struggling to read this paper on PEPCK. "He's already on his way over here now. Just I guess be ready to explain why you weren't answering." You nodded quietly and began racking your brain for an excuse. You could say you were doing work, but that usually never warranted you turning on Do Not Disturb. If you told him about the actual problem he could blow it into something more than it's worth. You didn't even notice Yuji had disappeared from the door and Nobara stepped out.

Before your mind could stop running in frantic circles, Sukuna was now hulking in your doorframe. "Hey twerp, why weren't you answering me? Almost gave me a goddamned heart attack."

"Aw you missed talking to me did you?" You teased hoping to distract him.

"No dodging the question brat. You never turn your notifications off, so spill." Sukuna's eyes felt like they were piercing into your soul. You couldn't hide anything from him. His perception rivaled his intelligence even.

"I have a final presentation tomorrow for my Biochem lab. I have to do it with my lab partner and he's just been overwhelming me with emails. And...and I just found out he's been taking all the calculations I've been doing in the excel. Y'know the ones I need your help with sometimes because they take hours trying to get excel to work..." you trailed off eyes down.

"What are you going to do about it then twerp? Because if I don't get a good answer I'm taking that laptop and I'm sending an email to the professor for you."

"I was going to talk to her in person before we have to present. I'm just...y'know nervous." Sukuna sighed lowering himself to sit beside you on the floor, pulling you into him.

"If the professor doesn't handle it, I'll make sure someone else does. Now let me see this presentation. I'm assuming you made it since your one of the few competent individuals I know so this better be good." You smiled softly, switching tabs to the presentation you had formatted. The other group members had all their data in, and your heart dropped to your stomach when you found screenshots of your excel sheet placed in. Sukuna just ruffled your hair distracting you from the panic filling your heart. "At least you know the data is right, don't work yourself up over this or else you'll mess up your part. Don't forget what's yours is mine so you gotta make me proud."

---------

I wrote this while upset because I found out my lab partner has been using my excel sheet all semester and taking credit for all my work hahah. Love being a woman in STEM.

[amerricanartwork]

Hewwo!

I just want to say that I LOVE your lilypad and Moon and Pebbles being adorable siblings drawings and headcanons! 🥺❤

Have a great day :3

Awww, thanks! It's always nice to see your support, Tanya!

Although, since you decided to mention both Lilypad AND the siblings, mind if I take this opportunity to actually introduce some more character headcanons and story plans tying both of these character relationships together?

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

First of all I want to establish, if I haven’t depicted it in my other content thus far, that in my general interpretation Five Pebbles and No Significant Harassment do not like each other. A lot. I won’t go into detail as to why right now (it’s based on a lot of deeper character knowledge that I’ll save for an official headcanon post), but I’ll say that Sig likes to tease Pebbles a lot — which given what I just said about him hating being disrespected, especially by older iterators, already creates tension easily — and while Pebbles’s stubbornness alone isn’t too unbearable, the arrogance and excessive pride he carries into his endeavors really ticks off Sig. 

Now, this conflict alone I headcanon as having played a part in the Moon’s collapse/Pebbles’s rot situation, but this issue will likely come to a head once again in my AU story because of one factor: Lilypad. 

You see, I currently expect Lilypad to become official pretty early on in the story for character development reasons, and because with my character headcanons on Sig and Moon and their relationship it just seems like a natural choice for them to make in that situation. However, this occurrence would definitely also heighten the tension between Sig, who doesn’t trust the guy who literally killed his new lover anywhere around her, and Pebbles, who really doesn’t like the idea of one of his least favorite people snuggling up with the one person he’s actually somewhat willing to open up to. Although for a while he won’t directly admit that he takes issue with it (which is an example of another, more fundamental problem of his in-and-of itself), and that last part isn't saying too much considering how awful all of Pebbles’s relations are by the story’s start. 

I also want to reiterate that Lilypad alone isn’t the biggest reason why Pebbles and Sig hate each other so much. Rather, the relationship and their reactions to it are the clearest physical manifestation of what I headcanon as the actual main reasons for their conflict and frequent disagreement on various matters.

But anyway, the “debate” over Lilypad ends up being another conflict between these two, and of course poor Moon struggles a lot trying to keep the peace when her little brother and new boyfriend are frequently threatening to throw hands (metaphorically), while also trying to work through some of her own issues that this development highlights. She feels horribly guilty for re-igniting their conflicts, and is afraid of siding too much with one of them and making the other feel ignored or attacked, but it also gets harder and harder to hide how much it hurts her to see them hate each other so much. Although now that I think about it, this situation could end up being something aiding Moon’s character arc as well. But once again, I don’t wanna give away too much here, so that’s something for another time!

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

I hope I didn't bombard you with this, Tanya! I kinda just saw the opportunity and wanted to talk more about these characters and their relationship. I definitely plan for it to get a lot better, but I thought I needed to give a bit of the setup first.

Regardless, thanks again for the ask! I can't wait to start unpacking my major headcanons regarding these characters' psychology, especially Five Pebbles's...!